


The Girl with the Chikorita

by d_s_t_e



Series: The Girl with the Chikorita [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Pokemon Fanfiction, Sequel, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 54
Words: 124,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_s_t_e/pseuds/d_s_t_e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumors have begun to spread about an unorthodox Pokémon trainer whose true identity remains a mystery. They say she's skilled in battle, highly intelligent, that she inspired the creation of the Vermillion Meadow Tournament, that she brought a pair of thieves to justice without using a single attack. They call her the Girl with the Chikorita.</p>
<p>She would prefer to be left alone. Travelling with her friend Elliot as he attempts to win the eight gym badges of Kanto, she takes on a job assisting Dr. Clark in his attempts to conduct a scientific study of the world that the three of them have become a part of. For her, the world she came from is long forgotten, but when the Pokémon world begins to undergo frightening changes, her connection to the real world becomes more important than ever before. In order to save the world she loves, she will be forced to face her past.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sequel to Getting Out of Fuchsia</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The little table was nothing more than a few square feet of wood topped with a long blue tablecloth, but to the little girl who was hiding underneath it, it was nothing less than a secret kingdom. If she stayed very still, there was just barely enough room for her to sit without ruffling the edges of the tablecloth. And if she stayed very quiet, no one would ever know that she was there.

This was a place that was hers alone, and that was enough to make it very special. She could stay under here for hours with only her Game Boy for company. It was old and beaten up, a second-hand Christmas present, but it was her most prized possession. Her fingers tapped away at the buttons as she played the only game she owned: Pokémon Blue.

If she imagined hard enough, she could pretend that her secret kingdom was the only place in the entire world. If she imagined really hard, she could pretend that she was the little character on screen, travelling around, having all kinds of neat adventures, being able to go wherever she wanted. She wished that real life could be like that. In foster care, she had to wait until she turned eighteen to leave. The characters in Pokémon got to start their journeys when they were ten. She wished that she could get her own starter Pokémon in just two more years. Then she could be free forever.

She hadn’t wanted to come to a new foster home. She hadn’t wanted to go to the one before that, either, but this one was worse. She couldn’t make any friends at school, and her new foster brothers were mean. No matter what her foster parents said, she didn’t think that she could ever be happy here.

But in the game she could be. Right now she was on Victory Road, inside the cave. She didn’t remember ever exploring this part of it before. As she moved around the rocks, she began singing to herself, very quietly so that only she could hear it. Singing made her feel a little better.

It was a made-up song, but she didn’t care. Made up songs were better sometimes, even if they didn’t have any words.

She lifted her thumb from the up arrow key, bringing the character on screen to a halt.

“What is that?” she thought.

The girl had never seen anything like it. Everything else in the game was colorless and blocky, but this thing was bright and shiny. As she watched, the screen actually began to glow.

She tried to get a closer look, but before she could she heard the sound of a slamming door. Her singing cut off with a gasp.

Derrick was home. She could hear him talking to someone, asking where she was. She scrambled out from underneath the table, frantically hitting the buttons to save the game. If he found her playing with it, he would take it away from her. He would restart the game and mess up everything: her gym badges, her Pokémon, she would have to start all over again! Well, she guessed she could re-win the badges, but she couldn’t bear to lose her Pokémon.

What about Butterfly? No other Butterfree could ever be the same as Butterfly. Butterfly was her most favorite!

She switched off the game as soon as it was done saving and ran out of the room. She had to find a place to hide it, now!


	2. The Return to Cerulean

**Eleven years later…**

“Are you sure that going to Cerulean City is a good idea?” I ask Elliot.

It seems like a silly question since we’re already most of the way there, but I have a suspicion that Elliot hasn’t really thought this through.

“Of course I’m sure!” he insists as we come up beside the long pool that winds around Cerulean Cave. “I have to get my second gym badge, don’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I reply. “In case you’ve forgotten, in Cerulean City you may or may not be a wanted man.”

“Are you still talking about the time I got you arrested?” Elliot asks. “I thought we cleared all that up.”

“Oh, sure, they let me go, but they never did find my supposed ‘accomplice’. At the very least the daycare man could have reported you for trespassing. I know the police are seriously incompetent, but that might just as easily work against you as for you,” I warn.

Chica, who is walking along beside me as usual, nods in agreement.

Elliot just waves it away. “Oh, lighten up. Nobody’s going to remember.”

“Fine, but if you get arrested, it’s not my problem.”

“Glay!” Maria protests from her position inside Elliot’s drawstring backpack.

I smirk at her behind Elliot’s back to assure her that I don’t really mean it.

We’re getting close to the outskirts of the city now. We should arrive at the gatehouse within just a few more minutes, and, from there, it shouldn’t take long to get to the Pokémon Center. I can’t wait to take a rest, although Elliot will probably want to run off to challenge the gym leader before we can even reserve our rooms.

“Hold on,” Elliot says, coming to a sudden halt. He pulls his little red cell phone out of his pocket and reports, “It’s five o’clock. Let’s turn on your radio app!”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Elliot, it’s not going to have anything to say about us.”

I’m totally prepared to dig my heels in so we can just get to Cerulean already, but the next thing I know, Chica is sticking her leaf into my messenger bag, fishing out my new cell phone, and tossing it over to Elliot.

He fumbles clumsily and almost drops it, but as I glare daggers at him he finally manages to get a solid hold.

“Thanks, Chica,” he says with a grin as he flips it open and switches on the radio app.

Chica flops down onto the grass beside the path, and Elliot takes a seat next to her. Maria leaps out of his bag and takes a place at his feet. I let out a huff, but they don’t seem to be paying any attention to me at all over the voice of the news reporter.

“We’re bringing you this story live from Celadon City, where the two notorious Pokémon thieves have finally been captured,” a female voice reports.

“Yeah, and it sure took them long enough,” I say. “How many days has it been since we chased those guys out of the Central Forest?”

Elliot shushes me, backed up by irritated looks from Chica and Maria. I frown in annoyance, but I don’t say anything else.

“Following a tip from an anonymous source, the Celadon police have charged the men with the attempted theft of wild Pokémon eggs and endangering the lives of others,” the reporter continues. “Both men have agreed to plead guilty to the charge of theft, but contest the other charges, claiming that the Pokémon of the Central Forest should be held responsible for their own actions in endangering the lives of any innocent bystanders. If charged, the men could face five to ten years of rehabilitation, including community service and payment of damages to the victims.

“Although police have refused to reveal the identities of the informants who aided in bringing these criminals to justice, the men themselves have said that they know of only two trainers who had knowledge of their crimes. The men describe them as ‘the most powerful trainer in the world’ and ‘a girl with a Chikorita’. As this reporter has established the locations of all the world’s most powerful trainers during the time of the incident, we can only assume that the criminals have exaggerated that particular detail. Upon further investigation, it has been revealed that the trainer referred to as the ‘most powerful in the world’ is sixteen year old Elliot of Vermillion City, who recently earned his first gym badge from Pewter City. The identity of the girl with the Chikorita remains a mystery, but what is known is that these trainers have done a great service to the Central Forest and to the entire Kanto—“

Now thoroughly annoyed, I snatch back my cell phone and cut off the transmission. “Alright, can we go now?”

Elliot jumps to his feet. “Is that all you have to say? Did you hear what they said? We’re practically heroes!”

Chica and Maria beam at the suggestion.

“We’re hardly heroes,” I snort, but Elliot completely ignores me.

“This is so cool! I wonder how they found out who I was.”

I shrug. “Maybe it’s the hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he asks, looking up as if he could actually see it.

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” I say, “it’s just that red’s an unusual color around here. Your color red anyway.”

“Oh,” he says. “I guess I didn’t notice.”

“Ok, now can we go?” I ask impatiently, tapping my foot on the ground. “Come on, I thought you were the one who was eager to get on with your gym battle.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” Elliot says, as though he had completely forgotten. “Come on, Maria, let’s go!”

“Glaceon!” she responds, trotting after him happily.

Beckoning to Chica that it’s time to leave the grass now, I follow as well, eventually speeding up to overtake him. It’s not like Elliot can get us lost when we’re so close to our destination, but I still prefer to lead the way. As we pass through the guardhouse, Elliot turns to me with a slightly nervous look on his face.

“So, um, I was wondering…”

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

“Can I borrow one of your Pokémon again? I mean, I do have Maria, but I haven’t had any time to train Harry, and it would be so much easier to beat Misty if I had a type advantage against her with—“

“If you say Chica, you are going to be dodging Razor Leaves in about two seconds,” I warn.

As we pass through the opposite door, Chica gives the leaf on her head a quick whirl to show that she means business.

“I was going to say Chance!” Elliot says, throwing his hands up defensively.

We’re taking our first steps onto the streets of Cerulean City now, but I’m hardly paying attention.

“You know he hasn’t had time to practice any of his electric attacks since he evolved into a Jolteon, right?” I ask.

“So he could use the experience,” Elliot argues. “I promise I’ll bring him right back.”

“Fine,” I agree reluctantly, slowing my pace to match his. I forgot that he didn’t have much of a chance to see the city before. From the way he’s looking around, I would say that he’s trying to get a feel for where everything is, which is remarkably practical of him. Maybe some of my common sense is finally wearing off on him.

“So where’s this police station that I’m supposed to be avoiding?” he asks, twisting his head around.

“It’s right over…” I stop short with my index finger pointing off into empty space.

We’ve just passed the bicycle shop; the Pokémon Center is on our left. By now we should be able to see it.

“Right where?” Elliot asks.

“It should be right there, behind the gym. It has to be right there!” I insist.

There is no way I could forget something like that. I came right out of the house with the hole in the back wall and there it was. It was the first building I’d seen in this world that wasn’t exactly like what I had seen in the Pokémon video games. It was the first building that hadn’t been in the video games. So where did it go?

“Excuse me,” Elliot calls out to a short man walking past. “Could you tell me where the police station is?”

“Police station?” the man repeats. “Son, I’ve lived in this town for forty years, and there’s never been any police station here.”


	3. A Watery Battlefield

My hands are shaking so badly that I can hardly plug the wire of the trading machine into Chance’s pokéball.

“I can’t believe the police station is just gone,” I say, finally managing to snap the tiny USB-like connection into the slot on the pokéball’s interior.

After fishing Harry’s pokéball out of the small holding tank where his Magikarp was released, Elliot copies my actions. We both set our pokéballs down on the machine’s surface and place a hand on the scanner.

“Processing data,” the machine says smoothly.

With my free hand, I hit the button to shut it up, and the words appear on the screen next to the scanners instead.

“It doesn’t seem possible,” Elliot says. “If the building really was there, you would think that someone would at least remember it.”

“If it was really there?” I repeat angrily. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, of course not,” Elliot says, looking startled. “I just meant that…”

“So you think I’m crazy, then? I imagined up the whole thing?”

“Well… you are the only one who saw it.”

Chance lets out a loud coughing sound, followed by an angry outburst from Chica, who jumps to her feet as if preparing to defend me.

“They were in the police station with me, too,” I remind Elliot dryly.

“Ok, ok,” Elliot says, holding up his hands defensively. “I’m sorry.”

I glance down at the trading machine and notice that it has “initiated transfer”. I slide my hand off the scanner as well.

“So… what are we going to do about this?” Elliot finally asks. “Does anyone else even know about this? Should we tell somebody?”

“Well, who would you suggest we talk to, Elliot?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Well, I don’t know. There has to be someone in charge around here. Aren’t towns supposed to have a mayor or something?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” I snort. “I’ve been saying that ever since I got here, but do you think the people of Fuchsia City listened to me? No, of course not. It was all ‘Gym leader Koga can take care of us!’. Have you ever heard of anything more ridiculous than selecting your leaders based on their ability to battle? Koga spent all day running his gym and zero time doing anything that even resembled the process of city government.”

“Still, maybe I could try talking to Misty after I battle her today,” Elliot says hopefully. “And, hey, you could always ask Dr. Clark if he has any ideas. You are working for him now, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but he’s only paying me to take pictures and collect samples and things like that. He’s a zoologist,” I remind Elliot. “I really doubt he knows anything about disappearing police stations or the nature of parallel worlds or whatever the heck this place is.”

“You could at least give it a… Oh, look! Trade complete,” Elliot reads off of the screen happily. He disconnects Harry’s pokéball and tosses it over to me. I catch it and use it to return the Magikarp before sticking it into the fourth pocket on my belt. The fingerprint overwrite seems to be working just fine. I disconnect Chance’s pokéball and hand it to Elliot with the little question mark sticker I’ve applied to it facing up. Elliot accepts it with a smile.

“What do you say, Chance? Ready to beat Misty?” he asks excitedly.

My Jolteon looks up at him skeptically. Chance evolved so recently—and so quickly—that it still surprises me to see his body covered in sharp yellow spikes instead of the soft brown fur of an Eevee. He’s taller now, too, about the same height as his sister Maria, although her new fur is blue and cold to the touch, almost as slick as the ice she can now control.

“You’ll be fine,” I reassure my Pokémon. “I don’t know how Elliot will handle himself, but you I’m not worried about.”

Chance snickers, causing the electricity stored within his body to snap and crackle.

“Um, how about telling him to listen to me?” Elliot asks in an offended tone of voice.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m going to leave that up to him.”

“Is this your way of saying that I have to earn his respect for myself?”

“Something like that,” I say. Really, I just think that this could make the battle much more entertaining.

As we walk onto the escalator, I catch Elliot looking behind himself uncertainly as if to make sure that Chance is following him. Maria is skipping along at his heels as usual, but it’s hard to tell if Chance is following Elliot or if he’s just hanging around his sister.

By the smug look on his face, I’d say he’s enjoying the opportunity to make Elliot squirm a bit. I don’t find that too surprising; ever since he evolved, he seems to have become even more confident and self-assured than he was before. It’s hardly unexpected that a Pokémon who picked out his own nickname wants to call all the shots.

As we walk, Elliot seems to have forgotten all about the trouble with the police station. I almost wish that I was that easily distracted because I still can't get it out of my mind. Still, there's nothing I can do about it right now anyway. If Misty is anything like Koga was, she'll want to have a battle before she'll talk to anyone about anything anyway.

It’s a short walk from the Pokémon Center to the gym, but once we step inside I can see that this is going to take a while. The entire floor is taken up by a huge rectangular swimming pool. Extending over it is a long, irregularly shaped walkway. At the far end of that walkway is a raised platform. The girl who’s standing on it can only be gym leader Misty. The problem is that, the way this place is set up, it’s impossible to get to her without locking eyes with at least one of the other trainers stationed along the way. Or is it?

“Elliot, if you want my advice here—“

“I can handle this,” he says, cutting me off. “You think I’m afraid to face a couple of novice trainers?”

And then he marches off down the floating walkway without even stopping to talk to the man at the entrance. Rolling my eyes, I approach the man myself.

“That idiot over there,” I say, “is called Elliot. He’s from Vermillion City, and this will be his second gym badge if he somehow manages to win. Anything else you need to know?”

“That should about cover it,” the man says with a slight frown, “but if he had stayed to talk to me, I could have given him some good advice.”

“Like I said, he’s an idiot.”

Chica nods in agreement.

“I was going to tell him that he could save himself some time by walking around the pool until he gets to the far end and then just swim over to Misty. Tap her on the shoulder, she turns around, voila.”

The man smiles. “I’ve never seen anyone attempt that before. It’s a novel approach.

“Thank you.”

“But, look, what you’ve got to remember is that most people who come in here live for battling. As you can see, it would have been easy for your friend to take the path around the first trainer, but there he is setting up for a battle now. Just like all the others.”

I shake my head, watching as the opposing trainer swims to the right side of the pool and climbs out onto the deck to prepare for the battle. “I will never understand this.”

Slowly, the area of the pool between Elliot and the swimmer undergoes a transformation. A large rectangle of metal slowly rises up from beneath the water’s surface, filling the entire area that makes up Elliot’s half of the battlefield so that land-based Pokémon won’t be forced to swim. It’s always the challenger’s privilege to set their side of the battlefield to whatever conditions they want, as long as the gym has the ability to accommodate them.

As Elliot and the swimmer begin the countdown to send out their first Pokémon, Chica and I make our way to the left side of the pool so that we can get a better angle to watch from.

Elliot throws out his first pokéball to reveal Maria, who lands on the metal surface gracefully and bats her pokéball back to Elliot with a swish of her long blue tail. The opposing trainer’s Pokémon materializes below the water’s surface. From my seat at the edge of the pool, I lean forward to see what it is. Just as the pokéball hits the surface of the water, the Pokémon bobs up to meet it. The ball bounces squarely off its head, and the long-mouthed face of a Horsea appears.

Horsea is a seahorse in reverse, small and blue with three spikes on either side of its head and a tube-shaped mouth that can spit out ink like an octopus. It is, of course, larger than your average seahorse, measuring in at over a foot tall.

“Marine, use Leer,” the swimmer commands.

“Counter with, um, Tailwhip!” Elliot tells Maria.

Maria bats her tail back and forth as cutely as she can manage while being stared down by the seahorse’s glowing red eyes. As the swimmer had intended, Maria seems creeped out. Just as Elliot had intended, the Horsea is now smiling a bit too confidently. Both Pokémon’s defenses will be lowered since they’ve been put off guard.

“Now Bubble,” the swimmer instructs.

“Dodge it!” Elliot says, completely unnecessarily. What else was Maria going to do?

The Horsea unleashes a stream of bubbles from its tube-shaped mouth, shooting them towards the Glaceon at high speed. Maria jumps to the side, swerving back when the Horsea turns its head, but she can’t run fast enough to dodge them all. She flinches as four or five hit her square on the nose.

I wonder what Elliot’s plan is here. Water has normal effectiveness against an ice type like Maria, while her ice moves are half as effective as they would normally be. Even though she’s evolved, Maria’s moveset is very limited. I’m not sure what she has that can help her win this. Helping Hand is useless without a partner, and Sand Attack certainly won’t help without any dirt or sand.

“Use Icy Wind,” Elliot says.

Obediently, Maria opens her mouth up wide and blows out a stream of freezing cold air. Marine the Horsea dives underneath the water, causing Maria’s attack to hit nothing but the accompanying splash, which freezes into a miniature ice sculpture. A thin coat of ice spreads out all along the water’s surface as Maria directs her attack this way and that after her happily swimming opponent.

Finally, she runs out of breath and halts, gasping in air. The Horsea pops back up, easily breaking through the ice.

“Another Bubble, Marine,” the swimmer says, smiling confidently.

As Maria dashes away from it, she kicks up thin spray of water from the surface of the metal plate. It’s still wet from sitting under water for so long.

“That’s it!” Elliot cries suddenly. “Maria, use Icy Wind on your side of the field!”

Maria’s head whips back around with a look of confusion, but she quickly corrects herself. Drawing in a deep breath, she launches the attack once again. The floor around her immediately freezes up, creating the same sort of slick coating that formed over the water.

Her opponent’s attack is still going strong, launching golf-ball sized bubbles left and right. As one comes dangerously close, Maria hops to the side, landing squarely on one of the patches of ice. But instead of slipping, her paws take to the surface like skates, sending her gliding off twice as fast.

“Ah!” Chica gasps.

“Go, Maria!” I cheer, watching as the cat-like Pokémon twists and turns with the grace of a professional figure skater.

“Impossible!” the swimmer protests. “She can’t just dodge them all!”

But she did. She leapt over, spun around, and slid down under every single bubble the Horsea launched at her until it was gasping for breath.

“Alright, so you can dodge, but I’d like to see you try landing an attack on her,” the swimmer gloated.

He’s got a point. If Icy Wind won’t work, the only other damage-causing attack that Maria has is Tackle. That’s only going to land her in the water.

Elliot frowns at that, no doubt thinking the same thing I am.

“Maria… tail whip,” he says finally.

The swimmer laughs out loud as Maria starts to wave her tail from side to side and Horsea watches in amusement. I’m about to smack my hand against my forehead, but just before I do, I catch sight of something that amazes me.

Halfway through her regimen of tail wagging, Maria stops cold. Before her amused opponent even realizes what’s happening, the Horsea has been hit full-on by a blast of icy wind.

“Sea!” it cries out in surprise. Its head bobs down as if trying to force itself beneath the surface, but nothing happens.

When the wind clears, I realize why. The attack was directed so purposefully that the seahorse-like Pokémon is now stuck inside a mound of solid ice up to its neck. The Horsea squirms from side to side, trying to break itself free, but the ice buildup is just too thick. It tries shooting bubbles at the ice, but it’s so cold that they freeze on contact, trapping it even further.

“S-s-s-s,” the Horsea shivers.

“Marine!” the swimmer cries out in alarm.

“Icy Wind, Icy Wind!” Elliot cries out quickly.

“Smoke Screen and Bubble!” the swimmer counters.

Maria’s blast of wind races forward from her end of the field as a thick curtain of icy black smoke envelops the Horsea’s. The smoke spreads slowly outwards as the Icy Wind races in, and out from the smoke comes smacking sound that heralds the creation of yet another round of bubbles. The smoke is so thick and black that it’s impossible to see the Horsea now. Until the wind cuts through, blowing it right back the way it came from. With a slight readjustment, Maria’s attack hits the Horsea full-on, freezing its head as solid as the rest of its body.

The swimmer grudgingly returns his Pokémon, acknowledging that there’s no way she can free herself, and calls out his second Pokémon: Shellder, a Pokémon that resembles nothing so much as a large purple clam.

Elliot and Maria seem to have gotten into the groove of things now. As Elliot calls out the attacks, he’s much more confident than before, probably because he finally has a working plan. Although most people who face off against Shellders try to target the soft interior within its two-part shell, Maria plays out the same strategy she used on the Horsea. After a few tries, she actually manages to freeze its shell shut. This prevents it from using any attacks, but, more importantly, since Shellder swims by opening and closing its shell, it's rendered completely helpless.

At the end of the battle, Elliot returns Maria and accepts the prize money with a smile on his face before dashing off to challenge the next trainer.

This time, because of the placement of the floating walkway, it’s impossible to expand the field for Maria’s benefit. The Glaceon is forced to make do with the widened stretch of walkway that facilitates Misty’s platform.

The opposing trainer, a girl dressed all in green, sends out a Goldeen.

“Remember when Unicorn used to look like that?” I ask Chica.

She smiles in reply.

Goldeen looks very much like a giant goldfish. Like its evolved form Seaking, it also has a horn on its head, but its flowing tailfin is horizontal and split into three rough sections rather than the vertical “butterfly wings” of Seaking. Goldeen is also missing Seaking’s fangs. It’s mostly white, with splashes of orange at the bases of its fins and the top of its rounded body.

This battle proves to be trickier for Maria, as the Goldeen used its horn to shatter through all of the ice Maria attempts to build up. The Goldeen also manages to send out a Supersonic pulse that hits Maria’s ears hard enough to make her confused.

Somewhere in the resulting series of misfires, though, Maria manages to land a lucky hit, catching the Goldeen just as it’s beginning to dive under the water. The Icy Wind attack strikes the end of the Goldeen’s tail, freezing it to the thick sheet of ice that had already built up along one side of the field.

As the Goldeen jerks in surprise, Elliot cries out, “Tackle it, now!”

With what appears to be blind obedience, Maria leaps from the walkway, striking her opponent roughly on the back. With a sudden ripping sound, Goldeen comes free from the ice, fish and cat-like Pokémon alike tumbling into the water, which is suddenly clouded with red. The Goldeen has left a part of its tail behind.

Maria gasps in a breath as she bobs up to the surface and swims back to the walkway. Goldeen, meanwhile, is swimming around in circles, struggling to compensate for the missing portion of its tail. From my position, I can’t see the expression on Maria’s face, but she stands on the edge of the walkway for a long time, just looking down at her opponent. Finally, at Elliot’s urging, she readies another attack.

“I concede,” the opposing trainer says, returning her Pokémon to its Pokéball.

As she fishes around in her pockets for Elliot’s prize money, I notice a disturbance at the entrance of the gym. The door bangs open and a dark-haired guy who looks to be about my age comes dashing through. He takes the long way around the swimmer, making the sharp turns at such a high speed that I gasp out of concern that he’s going to slip right off of the wet surface of the walkway. Somehow, though, he makes it without a single misplaced step, skidding to a stop right in front of Misty’s platform.

“I challenge you to a battle for the Cascade Badge,” he announces proudly.

“Hang on a minute!” Elliot says angrily as the girl with the injured Goldeen rushes past them both on her way out the door. “I was just about to challenge Misty!”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait your turn,” the guy says smugly.

“Wait my turn? I was here first!”

“Well, then, you should have challenged her while you had the chance.”

The gym leader looks down at both challengers from the top of her platform, then turns to Elliot. “I’m really very sorry, but this man over here locked eyes with me first. The rules state that he gets the first chance to challenge me.”

Beside me, I hear Chica snort with anger.

“What a jerk,” I agree.

“What’s your name?” Misty asks the challenger.

“I’m Derrick. Derrick of Fuchsia City!”


	4. Some Say the World Will End in Fire

Immediately, I can feel the color rising to my cheeks. Derrick of Fuchsia City?

I rise to my feet, feeling my face harden with anger. My right hand curls into a fist as I shout, “What are you doing here, Derrick?”

The young man at the other end of the pool looks up curiously. “Sorry, do I know you?” he asks.

I don’t care that it’s impossible. As I glare back at him, I can feel all of the anger inside me resurging like a wave. It’s all an act. It’s got to be. Even as I think this, he’s looking back at me, not with confusion, but with interest, like he’s sizing me up.

I grit my teeth.

“Chika?” Chica asks, looking up at me.

I know what she’s asking. She doesn’t remember any Derrick from Fuchsia City. In a town with a population of 35, you get to know, or at least hear about, every single person who has ever lived there. Chica knows that. So do I, but I also know that people have been known to pop up out of thin air. Off in the real world one day and here the next. People like me, like Elliot. Like Derrick.

I ignore Chica’s question.

“Ka?” she asks again. “Ka?”

She’s getting annoyed now. I can smell it in the air wafting up from her leaf as she hops impatiently: the sharp odor of cinnamon.

At the far end of the pool, Derrick looks amused. “Don’t look now, but I think your little salad is itching for a battle. Why don’t you come off of the sidelines and let me show you how a real trainer battles?”

“Leave her out of this!” I shout. “This fight’s between you and me!” I don’t want to send my Pokémon into a battle against his Pokémon; I want to punch his stupid face in. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life. I feel my entire body shaking with rage.

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my wrist. Acting instinctively, before I even have time to think, I spin around and kick, sending the person flying back to the wall. The man from the door hits it with a thud, sliding down to the tiled floor with a groan.

I gasp.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize—“

But Misty cuts me off. “Hey! I don’t care who you are; you can’t cause trouble like that in my gym!”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” I insist. “Are you ok?”

Chica’s scent has undergone an abrupt change. It’s the soothing scent of lilacs now as she fans the air gently over to the injured man. His face is twisted in pain, but he looks like he’s going to be ok. Pushing himself away from the wall, he rubs a hand across his back. I offer him my hand, but he waves it away, climbing to his feet without assistance.

“I want you out of here right now!” Misty shouts.

And so, with one last apology, I slowly make my exit. Just before I reach the door, I turn and glare at Derrick. This isn’t over.

* * *

When Elliot finally finds me back in my room at the Pokémon Center, his first words are, “What was that?”

It’s been a good half hour since the incident at the gym, but I’m still finding it very hard to put myself into anything even resembling a good mood right now.

“Shut up, Elliot. You heard me apologize.”

Lying on the bed, I continue glaring at the ceiling. Maybe if I practice hard enough, I’ll actually be able to paralyze people with it like a crazy Arbok-human hybrid.

“That’s not what I meant,” Elliot says, stepping into the room. “I meant, what was it that made you start acting like this?”

“Acting like what?” I ask poisonously, turning my head to face him now.

“Um, let’s see. You start shouting at some trainer from Fuchsia City for no apparent reason, you kick a guy in the chest, you’re arguing with me, and, if I might ask, where the heck is Chica?”

“She’s in her pokéball,” I reply.

“Chica is never in her pokéball. What happened?”

“She wouldn’t stop pestering me,” I say in a low voice. I have to admit that I’m regretting that part already. It was a selfish thing to do, forcing her to go into storage just so that I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I am an awful trainer.

“Well, then, I guess I should be glad that you can’t stick me inside some pokéball, too,” Elliot says angrily. “Because I’m not going anywhere until you answer me.”

He marches over to the bed and looks down at me with his arms crossed.

I make an exasperated noise and swing into a sitting position. Clearly, he is not giving this one up.

“If you want to know, I’m actually getting a little tired of this,” Elliot says. “Last time you bit my head off because I wanted to know your name, and now I can’t even tell what set you off. I thought you agreed that you were going to be more open with me.”

I grimace, remembering the day that we left Pewter City. The day that he was leaving Pewter City and I ran after him.

“I told you about foster care,” I say, closing my eyes.

“Is that what this is about?” Elliot asks. His voice, matching the sudden gentleness of mine, is calmer now.

“I shouldn’t have told you that.” But I had thought it was behind me. If I had only known…

“Talk to me.” Elliot’s words are strong and confident, persuasive. Each one is accented.

“Alright,” I sigh. I reach over to the bedside table, where Chica’s pokéball is still at its baseball size. I toss it gently into the air and watch as she appears in a full blaze of fury.

“Aaaaar,” she growls. The leaf on her head is glinting like the blade of a sword, ready to launch the mother of all razor leaf attacks before she’s even thought about starting one. The smell coming off of her entire body now is as if she’s somehow launched the burning taste of a jalapeno pepper into the very air, making my eyes water in the confined space of the room. She snorts like an angry bull as she looks at me, waiting for, demanding a full explanation and apology.

“Just wait, Chica,” Elliot says. “There’s something big going on here. Give her a chance to explain.”

Chica shoots her gaze in his direction as if to say, “You have got to be kidding me,” but the scent is fading back to cinnamon. She walks forward with deliberate steps and slaps me in the leg with the flat edge of her leaf, so hard that it’s definitely going to leave a bruise.

“Ok, I deserved that,” I say, wiping the tears from my eyes.

She sits down hard and looks up, waiting impatiently for the promised explanation.

“Close the door,” I tell Elliot.

As he does so, I take in a deep breath. I’m not quite sure where to start.

“Derrick,” I say finally, “isn’t someone I know from Fuchsia City.”

“Ah!” Chica says. Her eyes widen as she connects the dots.

Elliot looks confused. “So you… don’t know him?”

I resist the urge to smack myself in the forehead. “No, Elliot, I’m saying that he isn’t supposed to be here. If he is from Fuchsia City, it’s only very recently because I know for a fact that I left him back in the real world.”

Elliot’s mouth drops open. “He’s from your past.”

“Pretty far back,” I agree.

“Wait, so when’s the last time you saw him?”

I think back, trying to remember. “I must have been eight years old.”

“Are you sure that it’s the same guy?” Elliot asks.

“What, because he pretended not to recognize me? That’s nothing but an act! You heard the way he was antagonizing me, trying to draw me into a battle?” I can feel the anger building up again.

“Ok, ok, I believe you,” Elliot says. “Actually, it makes me feel a little better knowing that he comes from our world.”

“Better?” I hiss.

“No, I mean the way he treated his Pokémon. It makes a lot more sense if he didn’t really know what he was doing?”

“Ka?” Chica asks.

Elliot looks as though he regrets mentioning it. “Well, Misty is a water type trainer, half of the battlefield is a pool, and the first Pokémon he sends out is… well, it looked like a baby Cyndaquil.”

I suck in a breath through my teeth. Cyndaquil is a fire type Pokémon. Any idiot knows that water puts out fire. And to send out a baby! It could have gotten killed.

“It came out onto the field like it didn’t even know where it was.” Elliot looks sick to his stomach even talking about it now. “And it just looked around at all the water, and it just sort of squeaked and rolled itself up into a ball. And it wouldn’t move.”

Chica and I are both listening now, waiting for him to continue. The air smells once again like lilac, as though Chica is imagining herself right there in the story with the Cyndaquil.

“He kept telling it to use its Quick Attack, but it seemed absolutely terrified of going in the water. I don’t think that it could swim.” Elliot swallows.

“That monster.”

Chica growls in agreement

“Well, he finally switched it out for a Pidgeotto,” Elliot says, “but if he really is from our world maybe he just didn’t know what he was doing. I could try talking to him--”

“No,” I interrupt. “If he knew enough to be able to tell that Cyndaquil could use Quick Attack, he should have known enough not to send out a baby against the Pokémon of a freaking gym leader when he had a perfectly good bird Pokémon. Anyone could see that a Pidgeotto would be stronger.”

And then I have a thought. “Please don’t tell me that he won.”

“Well…”

“What is this?” I explode, jumping to my feet. “A police station disappears, Derrick shows up in Fuchsia City, of all places, and, somehow, in less than a week, he gets a Pidgeotto, a Cyndaquil, and wins a battle at the Cerulean City gym. How could one person possibly have time for all of that? A freaking Cyndaquil! Where on earth did he get a Cyndaquil? This is Kanto!”

“You have a Chikorita,” Elliot points out. “It’s basically the same thing.”

Right, because Chikorita and Cyndaquil are both what are known as “starter Pokémon” from Johto, the next region over. In the Gold and Silver versions of the games, you would literally start by choosing one of those two, or Totodile, as your first Pokémon.

“And then your rival would pick the opposite one,” I say out loud.

“What was that?” Elliot asks.

“If I was in the games, and I picked Chikorita as my starting Pokémon, my rival would have picked the Cyndaquil.”

Elliot looks at me. “You don’t think…?”

“Has the entire world gone nuts?” I shout.


	5. Yes, Yes it Has

“Well, there’s only one thing to do,” I say finally. I’m half-lying on the bed, with my legs dangling off the side and my eyes staring up at the ceiling, a pose that I collapsed into after I finally exhausted my anger at Derrick and at whatever it was that brought him here and at this whole stupid world I’m stuck in.

“What thing is that?” Elliot asks, straightening up in his chair and lifting his head from his hands. He looks a little tired, as if all of my ranting has worn him out.

“The Nugget Bridge.”

“Chika?” Chica asks from somewhere near my right ear. She bends her head so that she’s looking directly down at my face.

“Sorry, Chica, but this is one that you’re going to have to sit out,” I say, sliding my head out from the curious gaze of her red eyes before straightening back into a sitting position. I unclasp my pokéball belt, toss it next to Chica, and hop to my feet all in the same second. I grab my sweatshirt from the bedpost where I left it dangling earlier and am just knotting it around my waist when Elliot finally breaks out of his “thinking” face.

“Oh!” he says. His eyes light up as the little crinkle of a frown jumps back into his customary smile.

“Just got it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nugget Bridge. Ok,” he says, standing up to follow me.

“Took you long enough.”

Chica takes a running leap off the bed and thumps to the floor directly between us, leaf raised at a threatening angle. She whips her head back and forth between Elliot and me.

“Aaa!”

“Um, yeah, you’re right, you do deserve an explanation,” I admit. Especially because I still feel rotten for forcing her back into her pokéball earlier.

“You two go ahead,” Elliot says. “I need to pick up Maria and Chance from the front desk anyway.”

“Why, what happened?” I ask, realizing with a sickening jolt that I’ve been even more of a jerk than I realized. Normal healing only takes about five seconds. Are Maria and Chance ok? Were they seriously injured? What else could have happened that would take so long that Elliot could only pick them up from Nurse Joy now?

“They got tired from battling,” Elliot says, looking at me as though I’m the idiot for once. “Misty, remember? Since you stormed out like that, I wanted to make sure you weren’t about to turn into the Incredible Hulk and smash the entire building into pieces, so I just dropped them on the desk and told Nurse Joy that I would be back soon.”

“Oh,” I say. “Oh! I never asked you about the battle, did I?”

Great, now I’m a horrible friend to boot. This day just keeps getting better and better.

“Later,” Elliot says, waving his hand dismissively. “We can talk about it on the way. Or you can wait until later tonight and watch it for yourself! I got the guy from the front entrance to agree to send the video to your cell phone. And he tells me you can stream it to any television set you want with just one click. Apparently, they can do that here. This place is awesome!”

And with that, he dashes out the door, letting it slam behind him as if it’s a punctuation mark.

I stare after him, thinking about how he just spent the last fifteen minutes slouched down in a chair looking miserable while I ranted at him.

“Well, he bounces back fast,” I comment.

Chica nods in agreement, but ends by throwing up a quick smile as if to say, “Yes, but that’s probably a good thing.”

And I have to admit that she would be right.

***

From the moment I catch sight of the bridge, my eyes narrow. Why they call it a bridge is anybody’s guess; it’s built directly on top of a long strip of dry land connecting Cerulean City to the northern cape, which you would think might make a bridge just a tiny bit unnecessary. With all of the trainers stationed on it, it would be easier to hop the fence and simply walk across the grass that it was built on top of, but I’m not here to simply get across it.

To the casual observer, there is no visible threat here. The wooden bridge is long and straight with a railing on each side, waterproof, well-maintained. If this world had any serious safety inspectors, they would have given it an A+ safety rating. The bridge’s occupants (and they really are occupants) are just a bunch of kids, leaning back against the railings as they wait for someone to come past. The closest trainer, a boy wearing a straw hat and holding a large butterfly net, is staring up at the sky with a bored look on his face, while beyond him a girl with long hair pinned back with a barrette is giggling as she plays hopscotch with an Oddish. I’m not in the least bit concerned about potentially facing a Pokémon that looks like a blue radish with legs, but I know that what we can see in front of us is not all that there is here. If my theory is correct.

Elliot and I come to a stop just behind the Pokémon Center and make a slow ninety degree turn. Like clockwork, our motion is met with the pounding of footsteps, and, when we stop, I am suddenly nose to nose with the man himself.

“Derrick.”

“We meet again,” he says simply. I’m struck by how much he looks like a weasel when he smiles.

He stands with his thumbs inside the front pockets of his cargo pants, looking me straight on despite the fact that Elliot is practically waving his hand in his face.

“It’s like he doesn’t see me at all,” Elliot says. “I’m not invisible am I? I didn’t turn into a ghost Pokémon? Can that happen here?”

I roll my eyes at him to shut up, but apparently Derrick can’t, or perhaps won’t, hear him either.

“I was real disappointed that you wouldn’t battle me back at Misty’s gym. I was hoping you would change your mind.”

He has that familiar glint in his eye. I grind my teeth.

“Oh!” he says with exaggerated surprise. “I suppose you don’t have much choice now, do you? Two trainers locking eyes and all that. Wouldn’t want to go against tradition, now, would we?”

He dips his hand into the white pouch on his hip and pulls out a small red and white Pokéball, but now it’s my turn to smile.

“Of course we wouldn’t,” I agree, “but, it seems as though I don’t have any Pokémon with me.”

I give the sweatshirt around my waist a tug, the simple knot easily coming loose to reveal the complete absence of my pokéball belt.

“What is this?” he growls. “No one in this world walks around without a single Pokémon on them." He pauses. "Not unless they want to get hurt.”

“Are you threatening her?” Elliot cuts in angrily.

Derrick punches the button on the front of the pokéball, expanding it.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

And then smiling, easy-going, never-holds-a-grudge-against-anyone Elliot reaches out a hand to Derrick’s shoulder and gives him a shove.

Without moving his head, Derrick’s eyes fly over to the source of the push. “What’s it to you, pipsqueak?”

“Elliot, what are you doing?” I demand. “I can handle this myself.”

But it’s too late. They’ve locked eyes, and Elliot is already reaching for a Pokéball labeled with a sticker shaped like a question mark.

He still has Chance. In all of the excitement, I had completely forgotten that we still need to trade back. On the bright side of things, I suppose that at least the battle will be finished quickly. Derrick’s Pidgeotto won’t last three rounds against electric attacks. As for his Cyndaquil… well, I hope a couple of Tackles won’t hurt it too badly.

“Elliot, this is completely childish,” I say.

“I don’t care.”

The two opponents have already spread out to either side of a makeshift battle field in the grassy area leading up to the bridge. The boy with the butterfly net has finally perked up and is calling out to the others to come and see. I’m disgusted by the fact that this is entertainment for them. I grind my teeth again.

“You know, I’ve been doing great since that battle earlier today,” Derrick says. “I caught a bunch of strong and smart Pokémon.”

Elliot hisses with what sounds like shock.

What was that? Some kind of secret code between Derrick and Elliot? Sure, it sounded kind of weird for Derrick, but why would Elliot be upset by that? And how would Derrick even know it would? They don’t even know each other!

“3, 2, 1!”

Pokéballs fly in synchronization. Chance pops out on Elliot’s side of the field, waiting for the pokéball to land on the ground before rolling it back to his present trainer with a backwards kick. On Derrick’s side of the field, there appears a tannish-yellow colored Pokémon with a slightly humanoid shape. It has ears shaped like a cat’s, a face that curves inwards along its chin, and a large tail decorated with a thin brown band. It materializes in a sitting position, with its eyes closed into long curved slits. It makes no movement at all, not even to make an effort at returning the Pokéball to Derrick. I look up just in time to see the red and white ball disappear in midair. A small thunk from inside Derrick’s pouch tells me exactly where it ended up.

Even Derrick looks a bit surprised, but he quickly shakes it off.

“He caught an Abra!” the girl with the Oddish says in awe.

“It’s not as good as my Caterpie,” the boy with the butterfly net huffs.

A boy with a backwards-facing baseball cap speaks up. “Abra’s got psychic powers, stupid. All of your bug Pokémon combined wouldn’t stand a chance against it. That Jolteon won’t either.”

I suck in a breath. This is bad. Why in the world had I thought that it was a good idea to bring Elliot along? Oh, yeah, because this day is awful. And it looks like it's about to get much worse.


	6. Bridge Over No Waters

“Alright, Chance, let’s hit it with a Thundershock,” Elliot says, pointing to the psychic Pokémon on Derrick’s side of the battlefield.

Chance’s yellow fur is already standing on end like a collection of spikes, crackling with the electricity ready to be released, but the Jolteon makes no move to attack. Instead, he turns around and fixes Elliot a look with his dark, almond-shaped eyes.

“Quick, while its back is turned,” Derrick says, “hit it with your best attack!”

Chance jumps and whirls back around. He lands in a crouch with his belly low to the ground and his long ears pulled back against his head and the top of his back. His body quivers.

But the Abra has made no move to attack, either. Eyes still closed into long slits, it sits on the ground exactly where it was released, its tannish-yellow stomach slowly rising and falling with each breath as though it’s perfectly at rest.

“Your Pokémon is asleep, Derrick,” I say. “Is this the best you’ve got? Really?”

Chance slowly rises from his crouch and looks at the slumbering Pokémon cautiously.

“Abra! Wake up!” Derrick shouts angrily. “Wake up, you stupid Pokémon!”

One of Abra’s long, claw-like toes twitches. Chance takes a step back, but pauses before the move is even completed, with one long front leg frozen in its bent-backwards position. It was just a twitch. If the Abra heard the wake up call, it’s chosen to ignore it.

Chance places his foot back on the ground and perks his ears up.

“Come on, Chance, it’s fast asleep,” Elliot says. “Hit it with a Thundershock.”

Chance turns just his head this time to serve up a look identical to the one he gave Elliot at the beginning of the battle. Turning his attention back to his opponent, Chance steps forward hesitantly.

Elliot turns to me. “Help me out here.”

“Why, because Chance will listen to me?” I ask. “Maybe you should try listening to him.”

Chance is still advancing, getting closer and closer to the slumbering form of his opponent. He stops at the sole of Abra’s left foot and lowers his small, cat-like nose to give it a tentative sniff.

Meanwhile, Derrick is enraged.

“It’s right there! Hit it, hit it now!”

Chance straightens up, raises a paw, and gives the foot a poke. No response.

“Hit it now! You idiot!”

“Jolt?” Chance says to it.

No response.

Casting around wildly, Derrick grabs hold of a large stick lying in the grass. Raising it like a bat, he walks back to the edge of the battlefield and lets it swing.

“No!” I cry, dashing forward. I won’t be able to get there in time, I know, but I can’t just stay still.

The stick whips towards Abra’s brown, plate-like shoulder, but just as I expect the sickening crack, the stick is suddenly passing through nothing but empty air. Derrick stumbles, losing his balance as his makeshift weapon unexpectedly carries on the force of his momentum. Chance hops back, although he’s already well out of the way. I stop, realizing that I’ve raced right out to the middle of the battlefield without even thinking.

The faces of the kids from the bridge take on looks of delighted surprise. “Look!” says the boy with the butterfly net. “There it is!”

Three feet to the left of where Derrick took a swing, Abra is sitting in the grass, looking perfectly at peace and somehow still fast asleep.

“It used Teleport to protect itself,” the boy wearing the backwards baseball cap says, folding his arms over his chest. “I told you it had psychic powers.”

I quickly dash back off of the battlefield, hoping that my intrusion will go unnoticed. As I step back over the imaginary line that marks the end of Elliot’s half, he looks at me and nods.

“Ok, Chance,” Elliot says, “maybe you could try to use Tackle?”

Chance nods once and sets off into a sprint, launching himself into the air at just the right moment to deliver a powerful slam to his opponent. Instead, he lands on empty grass, but his feet find their balance perfectly. Chance was expecting that to happen.

Abra has teleported a few feet diagonally this time. Still asleep.

“You are absolutely useless!” Derrick rages. He snatches Abra’s Pokéball out of his pouch and points it at his disobedient Pokémon. Or at where it used to be. As I watch, Abra disappears again and again, only to reappear at a new location on the battlefield. It never fades or appears to be any less solid. Its disappearance and reappearance isn’t marked by any noise or movement. It’s simply here one moment and there the next, as if you blinked and missed it. Derrick waves the Pokéball left and right, attempting to return it without success and growing increasingly frustrated.

“Why doesn’t Abra just teleport away?” asks the girl with the Oddish. “I would run away if he was my trainer.”

Chance has taken a seat on the grass, head moving back and forth as he traces the disappearances and reappearances.

“Chance,” I say, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible.

He stands and looks at me.

“Are any of your attacks going to be able to hit that Abra?”

His mouth flattens into a serious look. He watches carefully until Abra appears right in front of him, then sends a tiny jolt of electricity towards it. The Abra disappears before it even reaches him. Chance fires some larger bolts of electricity at a few random spot on the field; the Abra does not appear in any of them. Finally, Chance closes his eyes. Every hair on his body stands on end as he focuses his power. Finally, he releases it in a wide, circular burst that reaches out in all directions, but it only covers a corner of the field, a corner that the Abra does not teleport into. Finally, Chance opens his eyes, looks back at me, and shakes his head.

Walking along the right edge of the field, I stop around the middle. “I’m declaring this a tie,” I say. “Neither Pokémon is able to defeat the other.”

“That’s stupid,” Derrick protests.

“That’s the rules.”

Derrick raises Abra’s Pokéball above his head and chucks it as hard as he can into the ground, but just as it leaves his fingers, there is a flash of red light. Abra has disappeared again, but now it’s nowhere to be seen. The Pokéball hits the grass, and the red light disappears.

“Did Abra just teleport himself in front of the Pokéball’s beam?” I ask.

“He wanted to get returned?” Elliot asks.

Derrick glares at the Pokéball as though he’d like to give it a kick into the nearby pond, but he picks it up instead, muttering something that I can’t make out.

“This isn’t over,” he tells us. Then he runs up to the bridge, jumps up its steps, and races away across its surface.

I stare after him incredulously. “Did he just…?”

“Run away?” Elliot finishes. “Yeah, that was weird. Would the Derrick you know…?”

“No.”

“Well.”

We both stand in silence for a moment.

“Ring, ring, ring! Ring, ring, ring! Phone call! Phone—“

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I angrily cut off the ringtone, muttering about how I have to get Dr. Clark to program in something less annoying.

“What was that?” Dr. Clark asks from the video screen.

“Nothing, Dr. Clark,” I sigh, using both hands to hold the phone up a slight distance from my face. “What’s up?”

“Have you gotten me any new samples yet?” he asks eagerly.

Wasting no time at all, I see.

“Well…” I hesitate. “Not exactly, but I did just witness something that I think you would be very interested in. Have you ever had the opportunity to study a psychic Pokémon before?”

Dr. Clark gasps. “A psychic Pokémon? You actually saw one in the wild?”

Just then, I notice that the kids from the bridge seem to be a lot closer than I remember. I shoot them a look that I hope says, “Shoo,” and motion to Elliot that we should start walking back to the Pokémon Center.

“Not in the wild, Doc,” I say.

“You met a psychic Pokémon trainer?” Dr. Clark’s response is so loud it makes me wince. His face disappears from the screen, replaced by a shot of his white lab coat. Apparently, in his excitement the doctor jumped right out of his seat.

“Well, he was training a psychic Pokémon, if that’s what you mean.”

The picture rattles and lifts up into the air before settling on the doctor’s face again. “Of course. Of course. But he was communicating with it? They displayed a clear psychic connection?”

“Um, no? Not really. Not at all actually. What are you talking about?”

The screen continues to focus on the doctor’s face, but the background moves upwards now as he slowly sinks back into his chair. His face is troubled. “A psychic Pokémon captured by a trainer with no psychic abilities of their own to speak of? I have never heard of such a thing.”

I stop short of the glass entryway to the Pokémon Center.

“Wait,” Elliot says, cutting into the conversation for the first time. “Are you saying that there are people in this world who are psychic?”

“Elliot!” I screech, taking my right hand off of the phone to punch him in the arm. “What are you doing?”

“Ow!” he complains.

“Get in here, you idiot!”

I grab hold of his arm roughly and pull him through the door of the Pokémon Center, dropping my left arm and the phone in it to my side as I do so. As we walk through the lobby, he opens his mouth.

“Not a word,” I say harshly.

A couple of guys at the counter chuckle at that. “Ooh, someone’s in trouble!”

I ignore them, dragging Elliot right up the escalator and not stopping until I’ve securely closed and locked the door to my rented room.

“Ow,” Elliot says again, finally tugging his wrist out of my grasp and rubbing it.

“Could you be a bigger idiot?” I fume. “How many times have we gone over this?”

“Hello?” Dr. Clark asks the carpet.

I bring the phone back up to eye level. “Sorry about that, but someone almost blew our cover for absolutely no reason whatsoever.”

“I’m sorry!” Elliot says. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Hey,” Dr. Clark says. “Hey! Now enough of this arguing. I assume that no one overheard you?”

“No,” Elliot replies, his face settling into something like a pout.

“Then, for now, no harm was done. Listen… girl? I’m sorry; I still don’t know what to call you. The important thing right now is that this needs to be reported to someone. The responsibilities of partnering with a psychic Pokémon are not to be taken lightly. I do not understand all of the particulars myself, but I understand that there are a number of psychic Pokémon trainers in Saffron City, including the gym leader, Sabrina. I want you to go over there right away and tell her what you’ve seen.”

“And gather some samples on the way?” I ask.

“Of course!” the doctor says, brightening up. “I would very much like to see anything you can provide relating to psychic Pokémon. The very concept is absolutely fascinating to me!”

“Alright then,” I say, “we’ll head off to Saffron City first thing tomorrow. It’s just south of here, so we should get there in no time.”

“Hey, Doctor Clark?” Elliot asks.

Scowling slightly as I’m reminded again of Elliot’s stupid move, I hand him the phone.

“Thanks,” he says. “There’s been some other weird stuff going on here, too. Have you ever heard anything about disappearing buildings?”

From my position, all I can see is the black plastic backing of the phone as the doctor’s voice replies, “Hm. Well, now that you mention it…”


	7. Cascade

“Pewter City is shrinking?” I stare at the phone screen. My brain feels like a rubber band stretched to the limit and about to snap.

“I never said that,” Dr. Clark is quick to correct. “I merely said that is what appears to be happening. I am certainly not an expert on the exact layout, and I do appear to be the only one who has noticed anything out of place. I must gather a greater amount of data before I can reach any firm conclusions on the subject.”

Pewter City is shrinking. Not just one police station but entire city blocks are disappearing now. What does it all mean? What could possibly be causing all of this?

Ignoring whatever it is that Dr. Clark is saying, I hand my cell phone to Elliot.

“I’m going for a walk.”

I grab my pokéball belt off the bed where I left it earlier and cinch it around my waist as I head out the door, not even bothering to tell Elliot not to snoop through my stuff while I’m gone.

Out in the hall, I release Chica, then Serendipity, and am halfway to throwing out the pokéball in the fourth slot on my belt before I realize that it will result in a big red fish flopping around helplessly on the patterned carpet. Elliot still hasn’t traded Chance back for Harry, but, somehow, I don’t even care right now. This is all way too much to handle.

“See?” Serendipity asks in a voice as sweet as the bubblegum pink color of her body.

I sigh in response and begin to explain everything that’s happened as Chica and I keep pace with her slow, waddling walk. She seems to be in no hurry today, and, by the time I’ve reached the part of the story that Chica also needs to hear, we’ve only just reached the escalators.

Chica gives a low growl from the moving step in front of me as I mention the beginning of Elliot’s battle with Derrick and frowns as I get to its conclusion. I step into the lobby and turn around to help Serendipity get back onto solid ground without tripping, unnecessarily, as it turns out. She steps onto the white tiled floor with surprising grace and looks up at me without a word as though gently urging me to continue.

When I finally reach the end, which I delivered in a muffled whisper from the emptiest corner of the room for the purpose of not giving away our big secret, Serendipity looks at me carefully, reaches her stubby pink arms down to the kangaroo-like pouch on her stomach, and lifts out the egg that’s resting there. She holds it up to me, perfectly balanced in spite of the roundness of its shape and her lack of hands or fingers to grasp it with, and lifts the corners of her closed mouth.

“Serendipity, I can’t take this,” I say. “You always carry an egg inside your pouch. I’ll wait until you lay another one.”

“See Bliss,” Serendipity says firmly, shaking her head to emphasize each syllable. “Blissey.”

She holds the egg up as high as her arms will go so that the large white egg is completely covering her face, barring further discussion. My eyes prickle as I extend my hands and gently lift the egg from its resting place atop her arms.

“Thank you, Serendipity.”

“Blissey,” she says happily, opening her mouth into a full and gorgeous smile.

“Ka,” Chica says, smiling along.

Just one bite of a Blissey egg will bring a smile to your face. Some even say that it can turn around an evil heart and fill it up with pleasantness and caring. I think the gift of it alone is enough to turn my day around, but taking some time out to prepare it couldn’t hurt. They are incredibly delicious.

***

When Elliot finds me, I’m relaxing near the corner of the stream that flows past Cerulean Cave, leaning up against the white picket fence and watching Unicorn swim lazy circles around the perpetually confused Harry. I was trying to teach the Magikarp how to use a Tackle attack, but he doesn’t seem to understand a word I’m saying, much less how to locate his uncooperative practice target. Every time Harry turns around, Unicorn has moved out of his line of sight, which would be funny if it wasn’t for the fact that he can’t catch on to the fact that it’s nothing but a one-directional circle. And if you factor in that it’s been about an hour, it’s really just downright sad.

Even though my back is turned, I hear Elliot coming. It’s obvious from the way his footsteps slow down hesitantly when he gets close.

“I’m not angry at you, Elliot,” I say, turning around. “I probably should be, but I’m not.”

“I am sorry, you know,” he says. “It was an accident.”

“You get carried away when you’re excited, I know,” I said. “And I know you’ll be more careful next time.”

“Yes,” Elliot says. He looks at my face as though he’s trying to root out some kind of hidden trick but softens. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

I’m not. Not really. Well, “better” is a relative term. Am I better than I was an hour ago? Yes. Better to the point at which I was before Derrick thrust his way back into my life? No, definitely not. But I can deal with that for now.

“Here,” Elliot says, stepping forward to hand me back my cell phone. “You left this in the room.”

Realizing that I left my messenger bag back there as well, I slip the phone into my pocket.

“You don’t think it’s a mistake to wait until tomorrow morning to go to Saffron City, do you?” I ask. “And be honest.”

“No. From what I saw, that Abra should be in no danger at all. In fact, it’s Derrick I would be worried about. Sooner or later Abra’s going to get sick of all his anger management issues and teleport him off a cliff.”

I chuckle. “Wouldn’t that be nice. So tell me, what ever happened in your gym battle against Misty? I still don’t even know if you won.”

Elliot’s face lights up. “Just wait until you see the video! It is – well, I don’t want to spoil it for you, just come on!”

He grabs my hand, pulling me along as he sprints back to the Pokémon Center. Just in time, I manage to get Harry’s pokéball out of my belt and point it into the water, beaming him back in. There is no way I am going to be the trainer of that Magikarp for another second longer than I have to be.

“Keep training! I’m leaving Serendipity in charge,” I shout back to the Pokémon.

Chica uses her leaf to give me a mock salute before letting loose a stream of Razor Leaves directed at the rock wall above the stream. Unicorn jumps out of the water to indicate that he’s heard as well.

Elliot takes me right up to the common area on the second floor of the Pokémon Center, where there’s an array of couches and comfortable chairs and, more importantly, a large TV attached to the wall. The few other trainers there look up with interest as Elliot turns on the set, but when he asks me to pull up the video on my cell phone, I just smile.

“I’m not watching anything until I get my Jolteon back.”

“That’s right,” Elliot says, taking the Pokéball with the question mark sticker out of his belt. “I completely forgot.”

“Uh huh,” I say. “Right. You had no intention at all of keeping him forever. He’s only a hundred times better than this Magikarp of yours.”

“Harry has potential,” he says with dramatic emphasis.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you prove that.”

Having reached the trading machine, I take Harry’s Pokéball out of my belt, increase it to baseball size, and toss it lightly up into the air before catching it again.

“Just you wait. Someday Harry is going to be the one to win me the biggest battle of my life.”

“Right.”

“You just think he’s useless because he’s my secret weapon.”

“Sure. Let’s go with that. Whatever makes you feel better.”

As soon as the trade is complete, I take Chance’s pokéball back into my possession and bring him out.

“Hey, buddy, ready to see yourself on the big screen?” I ask.

He smiles confidently.

Elliot tosses out Maria’s pokéball as well, and the brother and sister lead the way back to the common room, where a slightly larger crowd has gathered now.

“Hey, I heard you’re going to show us a gym battle?” says a guy a couple of years older than Elliot.

Elliot shrugs. “Sure, you can watch if you want.”

I pull it up on my phone, noting that it does indeed display a message box asking if I want to stream it to the Pokémon Center common room TV. I hit yes, and Elliot’s face appears on screen with all the clarity of a professionally filmed television show. The camera zooms out from the close up to show him reaching towards his pokéball belt, then shoots over to gym leader Misty, who is lifting a pokéball of her own out of a red bag that looks just like the one she carries in the anime.

I thought this was from a security camera. With this quality and all these angles, there must be several of them, very good ones, too, working together to compile the footage. I wonder if there’s someone controlling them behind the scenes or whether technology in the Pokémon world is just so awesome that they can actually be automatic.

A side view shows both pokéballs flying out into the field. One red beam solidifies into Chance, who watches with solid determination as the second drops into the water and becomes a Staryu, a star shaped Pokémon with a roughly circular yellow center surrounding a red jewel.

“Ok, Chance, let’s start this with a Thunder Shock,” Elliot says confidently.

“Dodge it and use Rapid Spin!” Misty tells her Pokémon.

Chance’s fur crackles as if in response to Elliot’s command. The Jolteon closes his eyes, fur standing even straighter as the electricity gathers and is finally released in a big, powerful surge of volts that light up his body like the sun’s corona. A smile spreads across his face, and he opens his eyes to see the results of his first electric attack ever. Just in time for Staryu to pound his head with the spinning edge of one of its five points, striking just below the corner of his eye. Not having been properly aimed or even focused, the electricity had dissipated before it had even gotten close to hitting the water type Pokémon.

Chance grunts heavily as his head snaps to the side. The Rapid Spin attack hits with such force that Staryu bounces right off Chance’s face and, still spinning, back into the water covering Misty’s half of the field. Its spinning points kick up the water at the surface, splashing it all the way back to the edge of the metal plate covering Chance’s half of the field.

“It’s ok,” Elliot says. “You’ll get it next time. How about a Tail Whip?”

Chance ignores this suggestion, raising his crackling fur once more with a pointed glare at the brown star floating in the depths of the pool.

“Water Gun, Staryu,” Misty says, and it somehow floats its way up to the surface without moving a single part of its body.

Dr. Clark would be very interested in finding out how it can do that, I think. Next to me, Chance is tense, staring at the TV screen as though the events on it are taking place all over again, as if that Staryu just hit him in the face with a Rapid Spin and as though, in this very minute, he needs to prove himself. I lay a hand gently along one of the spikes of fur along his back.

On screen, the camera zooms in to show a fast-moving, highly pressurized column of water spurting out from somewhere near the red jewel at the center of the Staryu’s body. Zoom out to show it shooting through the air like water from a fire hose. Slow motion now, it inches towards Chance. Closer, closer, closer, and then comes the shock! The Water Gun hits Chance full blast, pushing him back at least three inches from the force and leaving him soaking wet from head to toe, but at the very second it touches the small black dot of his nose, Chance’s lips curl up into a smile.

At first contact with the fur of his face, a spark flies up. Still in slow motion, we watch as the electricity from Chance’s body courses backwards through the column of water still shooting towards him, completely unaffected by the current, going even faster than it. And when the yellow light of that electricity hits the water’s source, the picture speeds up again. Like an electric explosion, Staryu is enveloped in a blinding flash of light, and, when it dissipates, the star shaped Pokémon is lying flat on its back on the water’s surface, motionless.

Misty returns her Pokémon with a frown. “That was very lucky timing,” she says.

“There was no luck involved, was there, Chance?” I ask my Pokémon.

“On,” he replies happily.

“That was nice!” one of the watching trainers approves.

Others register their agreement before the second part of the battle begins. This time, Elliot sends out Maria. Misty sends out the evolved form of Staryu, a larger, purple star with a gem that glows seven different colors and a second five-pointed extension behind its main body, making ten points in total.

Maria tries her best, but the Starmie’s Rapid Spin attacks cut through the ice she forms like butter. Eventually, Elliot gives in and sends out Chance again. It takes him a couple of tries to hit as the Starmie jumps and spins to dodge his Thunder Shocks, perhaps aided by the fact that Chance still doesn’t have the greatest aim, but he finally delivers a couple of blows that finish the battle. The video shuts off as Misty gets down from her pedestal and hands Elliot the raindrop shaped Cascade Badge, the token that proves he has defeated his second gym leader.


	8. Bound for Saffron

When I meet up with Elliot in the Pokémon Center lobby to begin our trip to Saffron City, the first thing he says to me is, “You don’t look so good.”

 

“I’m fine.” I don’t even slow down as I change my walk to meet up with him to a walk right out the sliding glass door with Chica and Chance following close behind. I wince as the early morning sun hits my eyes.

 

“Are you sure? You look really tired.” He and Maria join us on the front lawn, speeding up to match my pace.

 

I sigh. “I just had a few nightmares, ok?”

 

We walk south along the grass until we reach the path leading out of town. Elliot is unusually quiet, looking ahead to the edge of town as though he’s completely focused on where we’re going. Only a small frown indicates that he might be thinking about something.

 

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it anyway,” I think as we step onto the dirt path. Being so alone and powerless while Derrick towered over me… In my dreams I was eight years old all over again, and I’m worried about just how much that reflects my current state of mind.

 

I’m lost in these thoughts until we cross the fence that marks the city border. I didn’t get much of a chance to look at the route connecting Cerulean City to Saffron City the first time we came through here, after exiting the underground path. Elliot’s stupidity combined with an enraged and unreasonable daycare man took care of that. I notice now that “Route 5” is actually composed of two parallel dirt paths, separated by a fenced-off section of grass. Some of it is cropped short while other patches are tall, like someone went crazy with a lawnmower, but in perfectly straight lines. Far to the south, I can see the outline of the daycare center, a one story yellow building with a metal roof that slants down on either side. It’s too far away now to tell whether there is anybody home.

 

Other than the Pokémon language conversation that Chica, Chance, and Maria are having as they walk beside the grassy area to our left, everything is quiet. Surprisingly enough, there are no trainers staked out along this route at all, and the Pokémon’s soft chatter forms an easy background to my thoughts. I am actually surprised when Elliot finally breaks his silence.

 

“Ok, then,” he says, almost to himself.

 

I realize that I had been staring off into space. I focus my vision again to see Elliot returning my gaze with an expression so serious that he looks almost like a different person.

 

“I think you need to talk about this,” he says.

 

“Talk about what?” I ask, though I know what he is attempting to get at immediately.

 

“Look. Don’t go all postal on me. Again. But you need to talk to someone about Derrick.”

 

Maria’s stream of “glace”s and “eon”s cuts off as all three Pokémon redirect their attention.

 

“Look,” Elliot continues, “You told me you never want to talk about your past. Ok, I’m fine with that. Or I was, anyway. I think you have the right to put all of that behind you, but now things have changed. You can’t just ignore this and hope it goes away. Now I don’t know who this Derrick guy is, but he’s here whether you like it or not. I can see that that’s affecting you, and you need to talk to me about it. Or to someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but since your only other friends are Pokémon, I kinda figured it was up to me to tell it like it is.”

 

I grit my teeth, feeling an almost irrepressible urge to throw out a stream of biting insults, to shout, to break something. It’s the exact feeling that I experienced the first time that Elliot would not stop questioning me about my name and about my past, the feeling that I experienced when Derrick showed his face in the Cerulean City gym, the feeling that I have experienced over and over again ever since I decided to stop being that frightened little eight year old girl and begin fighting for myself.

 

I curl my hand into a fist and squeeze it tight. “How do you know what I need?”

 

Elliot hesitates.

 

“Chi chikari,” Chica says. Chance and Maria nod. Unfortunately, I have no idea what that means.

 

“Talking is not going to make any of my problems go away,” I say. “It is not going to make Derrick go back to where he came from or undo the ridiculous notion that he’s supposed to be my ‘rival’ in working towards a goal that I’m not even trying to accomplish. And it’s not going to change a thing that happened between us or make him feel a sudden surge of repentance. It’s just going to be me reliving memories that I would rather forget.”

 

Chica frowns deeply and sweeps her leaf through the air in a wide arc so that the breezeless air carries me the scent of ground black pepper. Is that displeasure or frustration? Perhaps a little bit of both, but she can’t communicate anything more clearly.

 

“What if we keep it practical, then?” Elliot suggests finally. “You could tell me who he is. He knows you, you know him, but I have no idea what’s even going on.”

 

“He’s an old foster brother. Haven’t seen him since I was eight years old, haven’t wanted to. We only lived in the same foster home for a few months, but that was way too long.”

 

Hoping to find a way to end the conversation, I look down the path. In the daycare center’s backyard, some Pokémon are playing: Nidoran like baby dinosaurs with oversized ears, Pidgey, Spearow, and other bird Pokémon hopping along the ground, even a tiny brown Diglett popping out of a freshly dug hole.

 

“If it’s been that long, don’t you think he might have just forgotten about you?” Elliot asks.

 

“If he’s pretending like he has, he’s only doing it to mess with me. Don’t let him fool you for a second,” I warn. “He’ll probably keep it up for as long as he thinks it will annoy me.”

 

“Was he ever a Pokémon fan?”

 

I have no idea where that question came from, but then, Elliot is Elliot.

 

“No. He absolutely despised the games,” I reply easily.

 

“But then, doesn’t his behavior seem a little odd to you?” Elliot asks. “The fact that he was quoting dialogue from Fire Red/Leaf Green like that –“

 

“Get down!” I hiss. Elliot stumbles and trips over the edge of the dirt path as I grab hold of his arm and pull him into the section of trees that lines the right side of the path. He makes an unceremonious landing on top of a bush and yelps with pain.

 

“Quiet!” I scold. “The daycare man might hear you.”

 

It’s a good thing that I was paying enough attention to notice when the back door opened and the Pokémon were called back inside. We were still far enough away not to be distinguishable at that point, but then someone stepped around from the front of the house. I would notice that walking stick anywhere, and it’s coming towards us.

 

Elliot’s muttering is accompanied by the rustle of branches as he climbs out of the shrubbery and towards what he obviously believes is a better hiding place… behind the trunk of a tree. I resist the urge to smack myself in the forehead. Meanwhile, Chance and Maria decide that the bush is the perfect height for them to crouch behind. Chica barely makes it before the tap, tap, tap of the walking stick can be heard approaching. Luckily, as long as she hides her face and legs, she can present a very convincing image of an ordinary plant.

 

I dare not even risk a look until the tapping fades. He’s beyond us now, headed towards Cerulean City deceptively slowly for a man who proved that he can outrun Elliot even while shouting his lungs out. From his hunched back and shuffling walk, you would never guess it.

 

“Ok,” I say, “let’s hurry it up and get to the gatehouse before he comes back. Or has the chance to turn around.”

 

I lead the way out to demonstrate that this should be done quietly, reaching the path once more without so much as a rustle. Maria, Chance, and Chica also manage to do so. Elliot, on the other hand…

 

“Sorry,” he says.

I turn briefly to make sure the daycare man is still on his way. Then, we take off running.


	9. Sabrina

Saffron City, as it turns out, is almost as bad as Fuchsia. The buildings, the streets, the layout, it all looks far too familiar. Of course, the houses are yellow with green roofs instead of red brick topped with gray, the streets are paved rather than simple dirt, and everything is organized into rows rather than being scattered here and there, but those aren’t the sort of things that I’m talking about. The thing that makes all of this seem so familiar is something about the utter simplicity of it all, the blandness, the fact that everything seems just a little… square.

“Do you see this?” I asked Elliot as we first walked into town.

“See what?” he asked, a little out of breath.

I guess I should have known that he wouldn’t get it, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m almost as eager to get out of here as I was to leave Fuchsia City. The sooner we get our errand over with the better, for more reasons than one. Of course, I haven’t forgotten about that Abra. If Dr. Clark thinks that the Saffron City gym leader can help, that’s got to be our first stop.

“But I’m not ready to challenge Sabrina yet,” Elliot whines.

“You don’t have to challenge her, just come talk to her.” I march up to the door only to turn around and find that he hasn’t moved a single step.

“But…” Elliot’s eyes dart over to the door.

And then something occurs to me. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of her.”

Elliot looks at the ground as though he’s suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. “Well, aren’t you? Just a little bit? I mean, that thing with the dolls? That was just…” He shudders.

“Glay,” Maria says, looking up at her trainer with obvious concern. She had been preparing to follow me into the gym before Elliot decided to play the scaredy cat. Now she turns and walks back to her trainer, wiggling her ears the way that she used to in order to cheer him up when she was an Eevee.

He responds with a tiny smile and bends down to scratch her head.

Maria closes her eyes happily.

“Chi, ka?” Chica asks me.

“Long story,” I tell her. “What Elliot is talking about is just another one of those things that you wouldn’t know about. Because it isn’t actually true.”

It’s a bit of a coded message, but I think that Chica gets it. I’ve explained to her already about how our world has things that tell stories about this world. One of those is the television show, in which Sabrina’s first appearance made quite the impression on me. I’ll admit it. I was a little kid then, after all, and those few episodes… If you haven’t seen them, go out and do that right now. Trust me, you’ll get exactly what I’m talking about. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Got it? Good. As I was saying, all that is completely fictional. Nothing to worry about.

“How do you know it isn’t true?” Elliot demands. “Have you ever met Sabrina before?”

“No.”

“Then how?”

“Because it’s just plain ridiculous, that’s how.”

“But Dr. Clark said that psychic trainers have a telepathic link or something with their Pokémon, didn’t he? And everyone knows that Sabrina is the most powerful psychic trainer in the region. She’s got to have something up her sleeve.”

Even with his hand resting on Maria’s head, his eyes dart around as though he’s expecting her to spring out from behind… well, I suppose she wouldn’t spring out from behind anything, really. If she actually did possess insane psychic powers, she would simply teleport out of thin air.

Elliot straightens up and finally walks over to me, but instead of agreeing to go into the gym, he leans in close with his mouth up to my ear. I jerk my head back in annoyance before realizing that allowing him to whisper something is preferable to another slip up where he blurts things out for anyone to hear. Grudgingly, I decide that I shouldn’t discourage him from cultivating the habit. I tilt my head back to its former position.

Elliot ignores all of this and begins to whisper, “Even if the TV show exaggerated a little, she can definitely do some kind of telekinesis. That story about how she discovered her powers when she was just a kid by bending a spoon with her mind without even trying? That is definitely canon.”

I’m very tempted to respond sarcastically, “Oh, well, if it’s canon, then”, but I don’t feel like whispering in his ear. I settle for raising an eyebrow at him.

He backs out of the bubble of my personal space and begins speaking again at normal volume. “Fine, if you want to risk it, go right ahead. Just don’t come running back to me when it turns out exactly the way I warned you.”

“If it turns out exactly the way you say, it won’t actually be possible for me to run,” I point out. “And you would totally come to rescue me, don’t even pretend you wouldn’t.”

Elliot smiles a little. “Yeah.”

“Ee,” Maria says uneasily, looking up to me and back at Elliot.

“You’d better stay here with Elliot, Maria,” I say. “If a rescue party is in the works, let’s face it, you’re the only one who’s up to the job. If the three of you somehow manage to be successful, you’re going to be about 95% of the reason for it. And the Magikarp will be the other five.”

Chica, Chance, and I step through the doors before Elliot can even finish saying, “Hey!”

Immediately ahead, I see a wall. The small room is closed off to the left and right, and the floor is decorated with a pattern of long blue ovals. In the center are a couple of decorative pillars and a man who must be working registration.

Other than that, nothing. There’s no one else here, no doorways or openings of any kind, just a strange tile lit from within by a blue light that pulses out from the center like a ripple.

Oh, great. I forgot that Sabrina’s gym is set up like this.

I turn to Chica and Chance.

“Sorry, guys, but this is going to be a whole lot easier to get through if it’s just me.”

I pull out their pokéballs to return them. Chance obliges with a nod. Chica waits until he’s gone back inside. She tosses her leaf up in a pout but grudgingly voices her consent. As the red light of her return fades, the registration man walks up to me, clipboard in hand.

“Alright, why don’t you start by telling me your name?” he says, pulling a small pencil out of his shirt pocket.

“Excuse me?”

“Your name,” the man repeats, looking at me over the top of his thick-rimmed glasses.

“Why do you need to know my name?” I ask, trying to evade the question. I can feel my heart beginning to beat faster.

The man tilts his head up to look me straight on, his eyebrows squished down with irritation. “It’s a standard question, miss. I need to know your name and city of origin so that I can register you for the gym challenge.”

Right. Of course. Why didn’t I remember that?

“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake,” I tell him. “I’m not here to challenge Sabrina. I just want to talk to her. So is there any way I can just skip over all of this and get to her right away? Or maybe you could give her a call and ask her to come here?”

“I’m afraid that’s against the rules.” The man’s lips form into a thin line. He drops his pencil back into his pocket and forcefully swings the clipboard down to his side. “If you’re some kind of troublemaker, you can get out of this gym right now.”

Sure, and make this the second gym in Kanto that I’ve gotten myself kicked out of. No thanks.

“Fine,” I say, turning to face the tile with the miniature light show. “I’ll take the teleportation pads.”

“I hope you know that Sabrina can’t legally award you a badge unless you register.”

I turn back my head. “I told you, I’m not going to challenge her. Do you think I’m lying just to avoid telling you my name?”

The man’s expression softens as my words have the desired effect, but just for a second. His eyes follow me every step of the way towards that pulsing blue light. I stop in front of it, watching as it flashes through three more cycles of ripples. Then I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and will my feet to step forward.

Immediately, it feels like I’m being sucked up into the air like a canister in the drive through lane of a bank. At the same time, it feels like I’m spinning faster than a drill bit. My stomach falls to my feet and my head fills up with helium.

And yet I never lose contact with the ground. If it’s changed at all, I never felt the difference. Holding my head in both hands, I open my eyes to a room that does not at all appear to be spinning, contrary to the dizziness I feel.

I wonder if that’s what it feels like to be brought in and out of a pokéball: taken from one place, transformed into energy for the journey, and dropped out into another. I don’t know how they can stand it, but, then I again, I never even liked the Tilt-a-Whirl.

My nose is pressed up against a wall identical to the ones I saw in the entrance room, which means that I can’t actually see a thing. All at once, I realize that this is a stroke of luck. I close my eyes again and put my hand on the wall. It feels oddly warm, as though the structure itself is infused with energy. Ignoring the protests of the trainer who had been hoping to battle me, I use the wall as a guide until I once again feel the lifting, dizzying sensation of teleportation.

“Sabrina?” I ask, checking to see if I’ve made it yet.

“What are you, blind?” a male voice asks.

“Nope, just a rebel.”

And I reach for the wall again. It takes me a long time, but gradually I begin to form a mental map of the place. Seven rooms with a teleportation pad in each corner. They all feel the same, but, somehow, I can tell them all apart. Maybe it’s tied in to my sense of cardinal directions like north and south, a weak intuition of being off from my starting point by so much distance in such a direction. By the process of elimination, I draw in x’s to cover all the teleportation pads that I’ve already tried. By now, I’ve gone through these things so many times that my stomach is roiling. I can barely focus. Even while I’m walking, I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“You’re never going to get there,” an unseen trainer tells me after I’ve returned to his room for the fourth time.

“Bitter much?” I ask, and, with that, I step onto what I know to be the final teleportation pad.

“You may open your eyes,” a voice tells me, and the words seem to vibrate in my head.

“Sabrina.” I open my eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Stepping off the tile, I take in a deep breath, leaning against the wall for support. I don’t have to look around for the source of the voice; the gym leader was directly in the center of my field of vision from the first.

Sabrina has a striking face, all sharp edges and cold symmetry, right down to the straight line of her mouth, which appears to be frowning without the rest of her face realizing it.

“You do not wish to battle,” she speaks, opening her mouth so slightly that I don’t see even a flash of teeth, but the words come forth as clearly as a hammer striking a thin plate of metal. And with all the resonance.

I say nothing.

“I can see that you have come to discuss a matter of some importance. Tell me, what is it that has brought you here?”

With a long, thin hand, she gestures towards a chair that I had somehow failed to notice. Leaving behind the wall as my support, I sit with a silent sigh of relief. Sabrina folds herself into an almost throne-like red chair opposite, where she steeples her fingers and appraises me with eyes like ice.

“As a gym leader and an expert on psychic type Pokémon, I thought that you would want to know about a certain Abra,” I begin, drawing upon Sabrina’s formal tone almost without realizing it. “This Abra has recently been captured by a trainer that I know, but he has no… psychic connection with it. I understand that this is a bit unusual?”

“Has he any natural ability? Telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, extrasensory perception?”

“No,” I reply. “I really can’t see him ever developing a talent for anything of the sort.”

I try to imagine Derrick moving small objects with the power of his mind, but my mind immediately rejects it, offering another picture in its place – Derrick picking up the biggest stick that he can find – short-tempered, brutal, prone to physical violence and never contemplation.

“He mistreated the Abra?” Sabrina asks, hands falling into her lap.

“Well, he tried to.” My skin creeps with the feeling that she somehow read this from my mind. The registration man might have warned her about the rest, but to have her respond like that just as I was thinking about him trying to control Abra in that battle is something else entirely.

“The Pokémon is safe. Of course.” The gym leader smiles just enough to lift her mouth out of its frown. “But she chose to remain with him.”

She? I hadn’t even realized that the Abra was a girl. Or is that just a wild guess? Is all of this a part of some kind of parlor trick intended to throw me off balance?

“Yes,” I say, simply verifying her statement.

Sabrina nods, her ruler-straight green hair swinging forward and back to maintain its perfect ninety degree angle with the ground as she does so. “Abra is wise. If she has chosen to do this, then she has seen that there is much more to this situation than meets the eye. There is more,” she pauses to flash me a look that seems to cut right down to my bones, “to the condition of our very world than meets the eyes, or the minds, of a great many. Abra has sensed her place in this. Have you?”

“What? Me?” I ask.

“I have sensed the changes sweeping over our land like a mighty wind. Already our city has been altered, but there is more to come. The wind is building speed. I have had a vision of you, the girl known only as the one who travels with the Chikorita. You are the one who holds the key.”

I let out an involuntary shiver. She hasn’t even seen Chica. How could she know about her? Or about the fact that my lack of a name makes her my easiest identifier?

Wait.

I force myself to take a breath.

“You know about the disappearing buildings,” I say, grasping on to this part of what the gym leader just said. I lean forward in my chair. “You’re a gym leader; can’t you do something to stop it?”

“You alone can discover the true cause of this. The answer lies inside of you, buried deep and covered over with a tangle of roots formed out of solid oak. I cannot retrieve this for you, but if you believe that our troubles lie solely in ‘disappearing buildings’, as you say, I fear that you still know far too little.”

“So you’re not going to do a thing?” I rise from my chair with the strength of my indignation. “You can read minds and have visions and bend spoons, not to mention all of the power and influence you have just by being the gym leader of Saffron City, and you’re going to stand here talking in riddles and metaphors, acting like the big shot and saying that I’m the one who has to do everything for you? If you know so much, why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?”

“I have told you everything I know.” Sabrina’s frown deepens, reaching up into her eyes.

“No, you haven’t. If there’s something to this business besides disappearing buildings, tell me exactly what it is. Please, be my guest.”

I can swear that I see her eyes actually flash, a small rectangle of red light briefly overshadowing a portion of the blue.

“I did not know that buildings were disappearing until you yourself told me that they were. My mind is weak,” she says with disgust. “I have stretched my powers to their very limits in order to find these answers that you seek from me, and my sixth sense has returned with nothing more than dim shadows and faint impressions of the truth. I have expressed it as best I can explain to one who does not understand the ways of the third eye.”

“No,” I say. “I’m not taking that as an answer. You’re telling me that I’ve got some kind of key, but I just don’t. You talk as though I’m supposed to take on some crazy mission to save the world, that it’s my destiny or something. Well, guess what? It isn’t! I am an ordinary trainer who hasn’t done a single thing worth mentioning, and I intend to keep it that—“

A sudden churning of my stomach and spinning in my head are the only warning I receive. Suddenly, I’m sitting on the concrete walkway outside the doorway to the gym, talking to myself.

“Way,” I finish.

Bewildered, I get back to my feet and brush off the dirt. A sort of choking sound makes me spin around.

“Elliot?”

He looks as white as a Silcoon. Maria rushes up and pokes my leg with her nose as if to make absolutely certain that I am solid. After a bit more spluttering, Elliot manages to find his voice.

“She teleported you! Sabrina teleported you out of her gym! What did you do to her? Are Chica and Chance and Serendipity and Unicorn ok? I told you—“

“I’m fine,” I say, cutting him off. “We’re fine. I must have accidentally stepped onto a teleportation pad, that’s all.”

“Teleportation pads don’t take you outside the gym.”

“Maybe one of them was malfunctioning.”

“No, they don’t work like that.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Says the scientist?”

Elliot holds up a finger. “I am not letting this one go because I am totally right and I will make you admit it, but weren’t you supposed to be gathering samples for Dr. Clark? You did manage to bring some back with you, right?”

I groan.

“Is that ‘groan, I forgot’ or ‘groan, when will Elliot learn that I am a million times more responsible than he could possibly be ever in a million billion lifetimes’?” Now that Elliot’s managed to regain some of his color, he apparently thinks that he can get away with being a smart aleck.

“I’ll get the samples,” I say acidly.

Just not from Sabrina. Or any of the psychic trainers in that gym. Shoot. I really hope those weren’t the only psychic trainers in the city.

The fact that Elliot’s looking at me with that goofy grin only makes it worse. Why couldn’t he be the one to hold the stupid key to whatever? He might actually enjoy being some kind of chosen one.


	10. The Search for Psychics

“Here you are,” says the waiter. “One plate of vegetable fried rice with a side of egg rolls,” he slides the steaming hot plate in front of me, “and one peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With french fries. Enjoy.”

He puts the second plate down in front of Elliot slowly, as if he’s trying to give him a chance to change his mind.

“Great!” Elliot beams, snatching up a fry. “Got any ketchup?”

I can feel the waiter holding back a sigh as he says, “I’ll go get you some.”

At this point, I could point out to Elliot that he is definitely not taking proper advantage of the open menu here in the Pokémon Center’s dining area, but I was not making it up when I told Elliot that I was absolutely starving.

Lifting my fork, I scoop out a mouthful of fried rice mixed with sugar snap pea and little bits of carrot and find that it tastes so good that I practically inhale it. The waiter returns with a small glass bottle of ketchup, and I take in several more bites while Elliot taps out a good sized puddle. Then he returns it to the waiter with a grin and turns to me.

“So?”

“So what?” I ask around a mouthful of broccoli and water chestnut.

“What was it like in there?” he asks, waving a thin yellow fry at me in a gesture of impatience. “Did you talk to Sabrina?”

I sigh. “Yes, I talked to her.”

“Was she…?” Elliot looks at me expectantly, obviously hoping that I fill in the pieces he can’t say.

“Not exactly.” I push some rice around my plate while I chew, taking my time. I don’t know if I want to tell Elliot about this mysterious key that Sabrina claims I have. In the end, I decide to relay only what she had to say about Derrick’s Abra.

“So we just have to stand back and watch Abra getting mistreated by that jerk?” Elliot says angrily.

“Apparently so,” I say. “Sabrina seems to believe that its part of some greater purpose. I’m not sure that I believe that, but she certainly isn’t going to do a thing about it. Without help from some kind of authority figure like her, I’m not sure that we can do much of anything.”

“That stinks. Well, I don’t care what Sabrina says, I’m not going to let him get away with it. Maria and Harry and I are going to start training harder than ever. And I’m going to go out and catch a new Pokémon today so that the next time it comes down to a fight, I’ll be ready for him.” For lack of a better target, he throws a stern glare onto his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Elliot,” I sigh, “that completely defeats the purpose. You’re angry with Derrick because you’re concerned about his Pokémon, so you plan to hurt those Pokémon in order to get back at him? It makes no sense, and you would see that if you didn’t see battling as the solution to everything. Just because everybody else thinks that way doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Elliot says. “I got a little hot-headed last time, that’s all. Next time I’m going to have my Pokémon keep his busy, if that’s even necessary, while I walk up and punch him in the face.”

“There’s just one problem with that plan.”

“What’s that?”

I point to myself with a smile. “I deserve first crack at him.”

***

I’ve been wandering around Saffron City for hours now, back and forth along the streets, ducking into the Silph Co. lobby, the Pokémon Trainer Fan Club, the Pokémart, and even the fighting dojo looking for any sign of psychic Pokémon or their trainers. Nothing.

Standing in the shadow of the Silph Co. skyscraper for a bit of relief from the heat, unusual for this time of year, I see Chance running up to meet me from the east. Within a few seconds, Chica comes around from the west.

“Any luck, guys?”

They shake their heads.

“This is just ridiculous. There has to be somebody in this town who trains psychic Pokémon and doesn’t hang out in Sabrina’s gym all day. Aren’t there any psychics who do something with their awesome powers besides useless fighting?”

Chance shrugs.

“Chika-a,” Chica says hopefully, pointing her leaf at the Pokémon Center on the opposite end of the street.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Maybe Nurse Joy will know of someone.”

As the Pokémon Center has no back door, we have to walk all the way around in order to get to it, so I’m already feeling hot and sticky and in a bad mood when I walk up to the desk, and my mood only worsens when Nurse Joy offers me no help at all.

“Come on,” I say. “You don’t know of a single person in this city who trains a psychic Pokémon and doesn’t use it to battle?”

Nurse Joy hesitates. “I’m sorry, there’s just no one you can talk to.”

“Wait, is there someone like I just described?”

The nurse wrings her hands. “Well, there is someone, but she wouldn’t be of any help to you.”

“I think I’ll make up my own mind on that. Where does she live?”

“Well…”

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing. I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

As she pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil to draw out a map, I realize that I have never before seen any Nurse Joy look genuinely troubled about anything. By disposition, the nurses are typically as bubbly as their pink hair would suggest, showing patience and gentleness in situations that called for more solemnity, and only lapsing into tender concern when faced with the worst of injuries in their patients. Who is this person that Nurse Joy is so reluctant to lend an otherwise always ready helping hand?

She tears off the hand-drawn map, and I receive it with an obvious show of my sincere thanks. I groan as I step out of the air conditioned lobby and back into the blazing sun.

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” asks a voice from my left. Elliot emerges from behind the corner of a building at the southern edge of town.

“That depends. Have you done anything stupid since I saw you last?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really? Because your face says otherwise.”

“My face?” Elliot frowns.

I pull my cell phone out of my pocket, turn on the camera, and snap a picture of him.

“Hey! I wasn’t ready for that!” he protests.

“Look,” I say, turning the screen around.

“But I was only out in the sun for a few hours!” he protests, raising a hand to the large red patches of sunburn on his nose and cheeks.

“Should’ve worn your sun block.” I shake my head. “I sure hope it was worth it. Let’s see this new Pokémon you caught.”

“Well…”

“And now my groan is justified,” I say smugly. It was a safe guess. I notice that Maria isn’t out of her Pokéball at the moment, which would fit. After fighting a losing battle with a wild Pokémon, she would be tired but not too badly hurt. Whatever he wanted to catch probably wanted to escape more than it wanted to win a battle.

“I’m going to catch it,” Elliot replies defensively. “It’s all under control.”

“Hm, if you say so.”

“Well, what about you, then? Did you find some psychic Pokémon that you can gather information about or whatever it is Dr. Clark has you doing?”

“It just so happens that I’m following up on a very promising lead.”

Instead of pointing out the fact that this means I haven’t actually found anything at all, Elliot’s eyes begin to sparkle with excitement.

“Can I come? I’ve always wanted to see a real psychic in action!”

“I thought you were afraid of psychics,” I say, but I wave him along anyway as I begin walking in the direction that Nurse Joy outlined.

“I’m not afraid of psychics, only of Sabrina,” Elliot corrects me, practically skipping with joy.

“Like there’s a difference.”

“A big one.” Elliot smiles, refusing to be let down by my attitude.

I find that I can’t help returning it. “Come on, it’s just up this way.”

We walk to the northern part of the city and turn right on the final street. Nurse Joy was very particular in explaining this portion of the directions to me as she drew out the map, but I don’t understand why. The little one story house we’re looking for is the only one on the right side of the street that has a door on this side.

Elliot and I come to a dead stop in front of it, staring at the sign taped onto it. In large, block letters, the words “Don’t knock!” are underlined three times.

“Um…” Elliot says, completely stumped.

I look around for any clues to an alternative. Off to the side, I notice a little black button that looks like it might be some kind of buzzer. I give it a push, but I don’t hear any noise coming from inside. I’m about to try pushing it again when the door squeaks open.

A dark-haired girl who looks about sixteen peers out at us and gives a wave in a single motion outwards from her forehead.

“Hi,” I say, “Nurse Joy sent me here because there’s a psychic Pokémon trainer who lives here? You see, I’m an assistant to Dr. Clark, the zoologist from Pewter City, and he has a particular interest in studying psychic Pokémon. With your permission, I’d like to ask some questions, take a few pictures, and collect a little bit of data. Is that alright?”

Instead of opening her mouth, the girl lifts up her hands. Holding out the index finger of each hand, she smoothly executes a gesture kind of like tracing a couple of circles in the air and then points at me. From her raised eyebrows, I would guess that this is supposed to be some kind of a question.

Instantly, my heart beats faster. I can’t understand her. I have no idea how to handle this situation. I’m probably going to inadvertently do something to offend her, if this is not enough already. How do I apologize to someone who probably can’t hear me? I move my head to peer around the door, hoping to see the emergence of a parent.

“Hey, that’s ASL,” Elliot says.

As I look on in disbelief, he lifts up his own hands and signs out a reply.

“She just asked whether we can sign. I told her that I can but not you,” he says without looking at me. His eyes are already fixed on the next set of signs.

Suddenly conscious of the fact that my mouth is hanging open, I close it. “You know sign language?”

“Um, can you please not interrupt?” Elliot asks, his fingers fumbling. He holds up his index finger to say, “One minute,” and turns his entire body at a slight angle so that he’s facing both me and the girl. “Sure, I know sign language. My friend Kasey uses it. Now, Mary Ann was just telling me that she would be happy to talk with us about her Hypno. I’m assuming she can read lips.”

The girl in the doorway nods in response, motioning us inside with a beaming smile.

“Hypno.” A yellow Pokémon with pointed ears, a large nose, and a white ruff of fur around its neck emerges from an inner room, giving us a solemn nod as it appraises us with naturally narrow eyes. Mostly humanoid, it’s just a few inches shorter than Mary Ann.

Chica and Chance smile and reply with their own versions of greetings.

“This is Goran,” Elliot says, translating for Mary Ann. “He’s been her partner ever since she got here.”

“Oh?” I say, “and how long has it been since she moved here?”

“You can speak to her, you know,” Elliot replies. “It’s kind of rude not to.”

I feel my face heating up. Great, now I’ve done it. But Mary Ann smiles and shakes her head, signing something that Elliot interprets as, “Don’t worry about it. You have no idea how thrilled I am just to be talking to someone besides Goran. None of the people here know ASL at all. It’s like they’ve never seen it before. I know that Nurse Joy worries about me. That’s why she sent you here, isn’t it?”

“Well…” I wonder if I should tell her that I’ve somehow managed to anger every other psychic Pokémon trainer in town. “Actually she didn’t know that Elliot would be able to talk with you. She didn’t even know that he was coming, but now I’m definitely glad he did.”

“You’re Elliot? Nice to meet you, Elliot.”

Elliot laughs. “It sounds like I’m introducing myself to myself!” Then he looks back as Mary Ann’s hands start moving once more.

This time, though, instead of translating, he moves right into a silent reply, as if he’s deliberately excluding me from part of the conversation. I frown. Mary Ann looks at me and signs something back to him.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Nothing important,” he says. “So, Mary Ann, I really want to know, why did you move to Saffron City if no one here can understand you?”

As he watches her response, Elliot gasps.

“What? What is it?” I ask, getting annoyed now.

“You’ll never believe this. She just said that she didn’t have much of a choice. Two weeks after her parents died, she went to bed and woke up in the middle of the woods.”

Now it’s my turn to gasp. “That’s awful! I’m so sorry! Is there anything that we can do to help? I know it might have lots of sad memories for you, but if you want to, we can help you get back home.”

“I don’t think you can,” Elliot translates, the astonishment in his voice ruining the intended tone of the words. “I can’t find it on any maps, and where I came from we didn’t have anything like these P-O-K… Oh, Pokémon! Here, this is how it’s spelled.”

He shows her with his hands, letter by letter, and then stops. “Wait.”

Yeah, just like Elliot to almost miss the actual bombshell. Another person joins our ranks. Me, Elliot, Dr. Clark, now Derrick and Mary Ann. How many more of us are out there?


	11. Lots of Important Stuff

“Do you mind if I just sign this one without translating as I go?” Elliot asks. “It might be kinda long, and my signing isn’t perfect.”

I nod. It’s alright; I already know everything that he has to explain to her. I should because most of it is stuff that happened to me.

As Elliot begins signing, Goran the Hypno watches intently, his eyes tracing every motion.

“Ta ri?” Chica asks him.

“No hyp,” he replies without turning his eyes. Although I know that it must be just his natural voice, the words sound quiet and soothing, like a hypnotist trying to lull their target into a deep sleep.

I’m curious for myself to see just what this Pokémon can do, but it will have to wait for later. I imagine that Elliot is telling Mary Ann all about the fact that we are from the real world, too, maybe even a little of our story. I can’t tell, but he’s stopping now, waiting for her reply.

“No,” Goran says, motioning now to Chica and Chance. All three Pokémon exit the living room where we’re seated, and I hear the front door open and close on their way out. I suppose they want a private conversation. About what, I will probably never know.

Mary Ann is signing now, and Elliot transitions back into his role as translator. “She wants to know how we got here.”

“We… don’t really know,” I admit.

“It just didn’t seem that important,” Elliot chips in with a shrug. Clearly, he is speaking for my benefit, as his hands continue to sign out the words for Mary Ann.

Her eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”

“Personally, I just don’t care,” I say. “I’m here now, aren’t I? No changing it. And it’s not like I ever liked living in that world anyway. The way I see it, finding out how I got here would only be important if I wanted to get back, and I really really don’t.”

Mary Ann purses her lips. “I don’t think I could go back either,” she signs, “but don’t you think it might be important to know anyway? People here are disappearing, too-“

“What?” I say, interrupting Elliot’s translation. “People are disappearing?”

Mary Ann nods. “You haven’t noticed?”

My hand flies up to my mouth. “I thought it was just buildings.”

Too late, I realize that it would have been impossible to read my lips. Bringing my hand back down, I repeat myself.

Sabrina was right. This situation is a lot more serious than I thought it was. Buildings are one thing, but people… They have to be going somewhere, right? Like how we left our world for this one? They can’t just be blinking out of existence. Can they? My stomach churns at the thought.

“Buildings, too,” Mary Ann replies, “but I’m the only one who sees it. Once a person or a building disappears, everyone else acts like they never even existed. Even Goran. Through our mental link, I can see that his mind is affected, like all of his memories have been altered.”

She frowns deeply.

“I wonder if that’s what Sabrina meant,” I say, thinking out loud.

“What are you talking about?” Elliot asks.

Shoot. I forgot that I didn’t tell him that part.

“I talked with Sabrina this morning,” I say, deciding to explain to Mary Ann rather than answer directly to Elliot. “While I was there, she said something about changes happening, something about it being like a wind? She was very unclear. So when I called her out on it, she just replied with something about how her mind is weak. She said she didn’t know about the buildings until I told her, which I thought was weird because she clearly knew that something was up.”

Elliot looks as though he would like to say something, but Mary Ann is signing again.

“Sabrina is very talented,” he translates, but then he frowns. “Ooh, I don’t know that sign. Or that one. Can you spell it?”

Mary Ann smiles at him. Then she reaches down to the table on her right and lifts up a well-used pad of paper. She tears off the top sheet to get to a fresh one and begins writing so rapidly that, after this sheet is handed to me, I’m surprised at how neat her cursive is. Except for a few inconsistencies in her ending swirls, the letters look as though they’ve been lifted directly off the pages of a handwriting manual.

“Sabrina is exceptionally talented,” the note reads. “She’s been able to have a few simple conversations with me via telepathy. I think her third eye sees more clearly than any of us what’s going on here, maybe even why, but she’s having the same memory problems as everybody else. I got sort of a sense of her mind the last time I saw her, and it was like the psychic part was fighting to take control of everything before her visions could get confused but something in the other part of her brain was fighting back. It’s like a hurricane in there. I’m impressed that she could tell you anything at all.”

Sitting on the couch next to me, Elliot reads the note over my shoulder, which would be annoying enough without the fact that he’s taking forever about it. With growing impatience, I shove the note into his hands, not caring if it breaks him out of the middle of a sentence. He can finish reading it on his own, although how it can take this long to read a six sentence long note is beyond me.

“That’s ok,” Elliot says, pushing the note back. “I was just rereading it to make sure I got everything. Hang on; I think I should take this.”

He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and flips it open to make it stop vibrating.

“Hello?” he says. “Hang on; I’ll put you on speaker.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and pushes a button.

“Why does he get a phone with a vibrate feature?” I demand, knowing that only one person could be calling Elliot.

“Because he brought his cell phone from the real world, and it already had the vibrate feature built in,” Dr. Clark’s voice reminds me.

Well, I knew that, but it doesn’t change the fact that Dr. Clark could have programmed my cell phone to be able to do that when he designed and built it.

“Here, can you hold this?” Elliot asks, offering me the little red flip phone. “I need to translate for Mary Ann.”

“Who’s Mary Ann?” Dr. Clark asks.

“Well, we really just met,” I reply, “but she’s from the real world, too, so don’t worry about whatever it is you have to say.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right! Elliot, what was that number that I asked you to remember? Quickly now.”

“Four thousand eight hundred and sixty six.”

“Yes, just as I suspected, but I can’t say that I wasn’t just a touch concerned about my mental health for a moment. I thank you for proving that I am not, in fact, delusional.”

“Um, you’re welcome?”

“I can now report to you with certainty that Pewter City is, in fact, shrinking. Quite rapidly, too, I might add. Luckily, the trend does not appear to be exponential, but the trend line on these data points has a much steeper slope than I would like to see. Whoop! There it goes again. At this rate, I shall have to make do with mental images alone.”

“Dr. Clark, you’re completely losing us,” I say.

“Of course. My apologies. You see, along with the confirmation of my earlier hypothesis, I have made an astounding discovery. Having tasked myself with the investigation, I determined that the best way to proceed would be to make use of surveying equipment to measure the distance from the city center to the outermost edge and repeat the process over time in order to observe any changes or lack thereof.”

“Hey, Doc, can you slow down?” Elliot asks. “It’s a little hard to keep up, especially with all this sciency stuff to translate.”

“I’m sorry, what are you translating? Oh, well I’m going to give you a few moments anyway. It just occurred to me that your cell phone is incapable of displaying video, and you might be very interested in seeing these charts that I’ve created. I’ll call your girl friend.”

“Girlfriend?” I sputter, jerking forward on the couch. “I am not his girlfriend! No. Just no. No way!”

Feeling a sudden urge to increase the distance between us, I scoot over to the very edge of the couch so that my left leg is pressed tightly up against the arm.

“Wow, I feel like I should be insulted,” Elliot says. He looks at me, but makes no other movements.

“Slip of the tongue, my apologies,” comes Dr. Clark’s reply. “I merely meant to refer to you as Elliot’s friend, but that didn’t seem quite specific enough. You are his friend. You are a girl. I don’t want to cause confusion. How would you prefer for me to refer to you?”

“Just not that way.” I hug my arms to my stomach. Me with him? Blegh! That would just be… no. Just no. I realize I keep saying that, but really, that just about sums it up.

“Well, at any rate, I will now call you,” Dr. Clark says, and the line goes dead.

I have my finger hovering over the accept button on my phone before it even starts ringing, successfully cutting off the ringtone at the first “r” sound of “ring”.

I stand and move to stand next to Mary Ann so that she can see, but the camera swings from Dr. Clark’s face down to a collection of graph paper without so much as a word of greeting. Elliot walks over to see, but quickly realizes that he needs to be in front of Mary Ann, facing her, if he’s going to be able to keep translating, so he sits back down on the couch.

“As I was saying, these charts,” Dr. Clark says without missing a beat, “represent my findings, represented in four hour intervals over the last two days. Each time I made a measurement, I wrote it down in this column and graphed it as a data point here.”

On screen, he points to a column of numbers and a small collection of dots on a basic x-y axis. Very neatly done, of course, but this can’t be the right data.

“I think you grabbed the wrong sheet,” I say. “All of those numbers are the same.”

“Precisely!” Dr. Clark’s face appears on the screen again. “This is my most puzzling discovery yet. Four hours ago, I called Elliot and asked him to remember a number for me, even showing him as I recorded it on this exact sheet. As you heard, that number was four thousand eight hundred and sixty six, and now it is nowhere to be found. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“Dr. Clark, are you trying to tell me that your records rewrote themselves?”

“It certainly appears so. In fact, on several occasions, the data points have jumped downwards before my very eyes. The numbers are changing, and they are changing in a very consistent pattern. As you can see, they are all the same. The graph that was meant to show the decreasing distance from the center of the city to the very edge instead seems to suggest that the distance has always been a constant. This, of course, is what we would expect to see in a city, barring the possibility of construction or demolition, but Elliot and I are both witness to their fundamental unreliability.”

Elliot, who’s been completely silent while he does his best to translate Dr. Clark’s rapid-fire speech, begs, “Can you please just sum that up?”

“As I said,” the doctor begins, but I interrupt, saying, “leave this to me.”

“Pewter City is shrinking, just like he thought, but no one else remembers it and even the records changed to make it seem like nothing’s happening. It’s like that guy we met in Cerulean City who told me that he’d lived there for years and there had never been a police station there. It’s like something’s changing not just people’s minds but the entire world. Like somehow things aren’t just disappearing, but something is making it so that they never existed.”

“And the four of us are the only ones who remember?” Mary Ann signs.

“In as far as I know, that is true,” Dr. Clark reports, “and, connected as we are, I would consider it highly probable that our uniqueness in this aspect has to do with our origins in what we term ‘the real world’. I had never thought to investigate before, but perhaps our physiology…”

He babbles on and on about the human brain and theories of alternate worlds and complex physics equations, but my brain is stuck on the fact that we are somehow irreversibly tied up in all of this. I remember Sabrina’s words: you are the one who holds the key. It is both a relief and not a relief to find that she was wrong. It’s not just me, it’s all of us. We alone can remember, we alone can see, and now it’s beginning to look like we alone can stop it.


	12. Prepare

Finally, I decide that Dr. Clark has babbled on for long enough. Snatching hold of a convenient pause that may or may not have been simply to catch his breath, I cut back in.

“Yes, Dr. Clark, I’m sure that’s all very fascinating, but we might want to talk about, you know, what we’re supposed to do?”

“Of course, of course,” Dr. Clark readily agrees. “My apologies for getting carried away.”

He still looks more excited than apologetic. His eyes are shining like all of the crazy things that are happening are actually the coolest ever and not deeply concerning. I feel like reminding him that, for all we know, the people who have disappeared could be dead, or as good as, but before I can figure out how to phrase that in a slightly nicer way, Elliot speaks up.

“So do you have any idea why this stuff is happening?” he asks.

Although he’s sitting halfway across the room so that Mary Ann can more easily see his translations, Dr. Clark seems to be picking up his voice just fine. Score one for the microphone on this cell phone.

“Unfortunately, that is a point upon which I am currently stumped,” the zoologist admits, finally deflating just enough to look almost serious again. “The entire question is outside my area of expertise, but I can promise to do my best. Perhaps there are some reference materials to be found here at the museum.

“And as for you,” he says, placing special emphasis on the word to indicate that he means me, “I’m still very interested to see the results of your study on psychic Pokémon, but, given the present situation, I’m redirecting you to begin investigating these strange occurrences immediately. The more data you can gather the better.”

I stand up straighter as I recall my responsibilities. “Ok, what kind of data are we talking about here?”

“The smaller phenomena, such as the changing of these numbers, can, of course, be studied in the museum lab, but there is a much larger scope at play as well. It is clear that entire cities are being affected. I would like to know, firstly, how many of them, secondly, what the extent of the damage is, and thirdly, whether the affects are restricted to a confined area.”

“You mean you think that this might be spreading?”

I feel like I should be alarmed by that, but I’ve been blasted with so many surprises now that I’m just feeling kind of numb. I wonder if any of this is ever really going to sink in. It all seems so big and unreal.

“I did not say that it was spreading,” Dr. Clark corrects. “I simply do not know, and I won’t until you can gather the necessary data.”

“Alright,” I say, holding my annoyance in check. “Where do you want me to go?”

“As a point of reference, I believe it would be most helpful for you to return to Fuchsia City. From there, we may change our minds, but it seems logical to travel to every possible corner of the region, perhaps even as far South as Cinnabar Island and as far west as Mount Silver.”

As he speaks, he points the camera to a map of the region and taps a finger each mentioned landmark.

“Mt. Silver?” I hear my voice squeak. “You want me to go to Mount Silver?”

“I’m sorry, have you ever even heard of Mount Silver?” Elliot asks. “No, there’s no way you’re going there.”

“What’s so bad about Mt. Silver?” Mary Ann signs.

“Wait a minute, ‘you’?” I repeat. “I mean, there’s no way I’m going up Mount Silver, but, hypothetically, even if I did, you’d just leave me to die up there alone? What, so you can keep challenging your gym leaders? I can’t believe you!”

“Well, I mean,” Elliot turns bright red as he struggles for an answer. “I thought it might be helpful if we split up. You know, for… gathering more data! And why shouldn’t I challenge a few gyms if I happen to be in town anyway?”

“Perfect. Just perfect,” I say, making no effort to hide the sarcasm. I look at Mary Ann and realize she hasn’t been signing very much at all. She’s sitting in her chair, looking at me and Elliot with an expression somewhere between troubled and a little scared.

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mary Ann. You must be feeling really overwhelmed right now. Here we are bursting in on you and loading you up with all this stuff you suddenly have to worry about and then on top of it all, Elliot and I start fighting. We didn’t even ask you if you wanted to get involved in this. In fact, we barely even know you. You barely even know us! I wouldn’t blame you for starting to wonder whether we’re all completely nuts!”

From the chair at the other end of the room, Elliot slowly raises his hand like a kid in class who’s a little hesitant to be called on. “I’m not nuts. For the record.”

Mary Ann smiles at him.

“Yeah, Dr. Clark, I think I’m just going to have to call you ba—“

“Hang on,” Elliot interrupts. “Do you hear that?”

As the room falls silent, I hear what can only be identified as marching: not just one person but a large group of people making heavy steps in synchronization. They’re approaching from the east, although if I strain my ears, I think I can also hear them from the north. But over and above the sound of their rhythmic footsteps, I can hear them chanting, every one of them chanting in perfect time: “Prepare for trouble… and make it double.”

With eyes as wide as saucers, Elliot opens his mouth just in time to quote, “to protect the world from devastation.”

Clearly, he’s in a state of disbelief. I am out the door. Where did I leave my cell phone? I wonder, realizing that it’s no longer in my hand. Oh, who cares? I have more important things to worry about.

Dashing out onto the street, I come face to face with the chanters. They wear black uniforms emblazoned with red “R”s, matched with rounded hats, knee-high boots, and, perhaps most chillingly of all, thick gray gloves. How do they expect their pokéballs’ fingerprint detectors to work? Unless they found a way to disable the security features, meaning that Pokémon theft has actually become possible.

They march down the street in rows of three that stretch back all the way to the guardhouse, with more coming all the time, an entire army. Facing straight forwards, they don’t even turn to look at me. I don’t even slow down.

Running at full speed down the side of the street, I raise two fingers to my mouth and whistle. I turn the corner, heading south, and Chica breaks through the line of Rockets to take her place at my side.

“Kar!” she shouts, almost a bark. She can’t possibly know what’s happening, but I imagine she can read the look that must be on my face.

“Wait up!” Elliot’s voice comes from somewhere behind the row of houses. “Wait for me!”

But I’m in full on sprint now, going so fast that Chance can barely catch up to us. He doesn’t swerve around in between the Rockets’ legs, as Chica did. He barrels right through, knocking down an entire row of three and causing a domino effect as the Rocket grunts behind trip over the ones ahead.

“Ha!” I laugh, just once, controlling my breath to maximize my stamina.

Still following but easily outpacing the line of Rockets, we turn the final corner. The enormous Silph Co. building looms before us, the obvious destination, although the Rockets have not quite reached it yet. No, the person waiting when I skid to a stop before the giant glass doors is Derrick.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet,” he accuses.

“Yeah? Well, tough,” I shoot back. It’s almost as like I knew exactly what was going to happen because I’d seen this someplace before. Oh, yeah, this is exactly the way it happened in the video game. Except that the main character doesn’t get there until after Team Rocket has already taken the place over. Oops. I feel so bad about messing up the plot line.

Seeing that Derrick is standing at the right side of the glass doors, I march up to the left. Then I turn, cross my arms over my chest, and scowl at the Team Rocket members heading up the march.

“Chica, Razor Leaf anyone who tries to go in these doors,” I say, loudly enough for them to hear me.

The three guys at the front of the group look like no more than low-level grunts themselves. Looking confused, they stop walking, and the chant dies on their lips.

The grunts behind them continue reciting the words until they realize that not everyone is saying them anymore. It takes some longer than others, so that it sounds progressively more pathetic: “Surrender now or prepare to…”

“Fight?” suggests one lone voice.

Meanwhile, I’ve thrown out Serendipity’s pokéball as backup, once again issuing orders to not let anyone into the building. Of his own accord, Chance decides to take it one step further. There’s an almost wicked glint in his eyes as he builds up the electricity in his body and causes all his yellow fur to stand on end.

“Get back, you idiot,” I snap at Derrick, pushing him roughly out of the way just as Chance unleashes a Thundershock straight into the metal door handles.

Derrick falls to the ground, hard. “Why, you little—“

Before he can even finish getting to his feet, Chica and Chance both leap in front of me with growls so loud that his final words are drowned out. Fur crackling, Chance shoots a spark directly into the ground at his feet.

“You are going to pay for that.” He curls his hand into a fist and attempts to sidestep around Chica. She copies the movement to block his path towards me. Then she rushes at him with all the ferocity of an attack dog, forcing him to back up several steps.

Thinking better of it, he lowers his fist and reaches for a pokéball.

“I don’t want to battle you, Derrick,” I say. “We’ve got bigger issues here.”

One of the Team Rocket grunts steps forward. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise attack. What gives?”

Derrick’s hand stops short. “You think that I let something slip? You think I told her the plan?”

I try not to let the surprise show on my face. Derrick is teamed up with them?

“Hey! Hey!” Elliot comes into view just outside the sign that announces the building from the street. “You leave her alone!”

“Don’t touch the doors!” I say urgently as he runs up to my side.

“How are we supposed to take over the company now?” the grunt whines.

“Shut it,” Derrick says sharply. “I’ve got this under control.”

He turns to me. “So, you don’t want to battle, huh? Run along home, then, little coward. The grownups have work to do.”

I grit my teeth against the insult before replying, “I’m not going anywhere until this building is secure.”

“What do you care about a few scientists and businessmen? All my friends here really want is the prototype for the Masterball. They’ll leave as soon as they get it. After all, if you have a Pokéball that can capture the most powerful Pokémon on earth without fail, what more do you really need?”

He pauses to measure the expression on my face. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t want the most evil organization in the entire Kanto region to get their hands on a piece of technology like that? Well, then, I’ll make you a deal. You battle with me. If I lose, I’ll send Team Rocket packing. This whole problem goes away.”

“Hey, wait, you can’t make a deal like that,” the Team Rocket grunt protests.

“The boss ain’t gonna be happy,” warns one of the grunts still in line.

“You idiot. He’s lying,” snaps a second.

I raise an eyebrow. And the idiot who just told me that it’s a trap is?

“And if I lose?” I ask calmly.

Elliot’s mouth drops open. “Did you not just hear—“

“I did. Now what happens if I lose?”

Derrick’s smile grows wide, calling to mind once again the weasel that he bears a striking resemblance to.

“If I win,” he says, “you are not only going to get out of my way, you are going to come over here and congratulate me on my victory. With a kiss.”

My stomach wrenches, but I don’t dare let that revulsion seep into my expression. My face feels like it’s set in stone as I open my mouth for the response.

“I accept.”


	13. Double Trouble in Hues of Black and Red

“You accept?” Elliot exclaims. “Have you lost your mind? You can’t accept a challenge like that!”

“I believe that she just did,” Derrick says smugly.

Elliot steps directly in front of me, blocking my view. “Take it back. You don’t have to do this to yourself.”

“Elliot, I’m going to do this,” I say firmly.

A hand appears on Elliot’s arm. “Outta my way, loser.”

Derrick shoves Elliot aside with enough force to make him stumble. Caught off balance, he catches his foot on a crack in the pavement and hits the ground hard.

“Elliot, are you ok?” I start to sidestep around Derrick, but he reaches out a hand to stop me.

Chance growls, his fur springing up into vicious looking spikes as the sound scrapes through his teeth. Derrick decides not to touch me after all. Feeling a little shaken, I decide not to push my luck.

I’m relieved to see that, even though she’s the only Pokémon still guarding the doors to the Silph Co. building, Serendipity is waddling her way over to Elliot, who’s wincing as he gets back to his feet.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly.

I notice that the palms of his hands are scraped. Serendipity gestures towards them, offering to help, but he brushes her off.

Derrick turns his head. ”Hey, numbskull, you want to get yourself electrocuted?”

The Team Rocket grunt who had been advancing towards the doors stops short. “But…”

“The door handles are metal, you idiot. They hold an electric charge. Just wait for me to finish this battle, and I’ll take care of it.” He rolls his eyes and gives an exasperated sigh.

Meanwhile, Elliot tosses out Maria’s pokéball. The Glaceon returns it to him by bouncing it off her head with a happy squeal, but her playful expression turns serious as she catches sight of Derrick and the Rockets.

“Glay?” she asks uncertainly, turning her head to look for Elliot.

Derrick snorts. “Hiding behind your Pokémon? What kind of man are you?”

“Wanna take me on and find out?” He crosses his arms across his chest as though he’s trying to look tough.

“Wait your turn, little boy. We’ll see how tough you are after I bring your girlfriend to her knees.”

Elliot’s expression hardens. “You go through with this battle and I’m going for the police.”

“Ain’t no police in Saffron,” says one of the grunts at the front of the line. “Nearest station is in Lavender Town. You wanna run all the way there, be my guest.”

The other grunts smile and pound him on the back.

“Surrender now or prepare to fight,” comes the chant from among their ranks. “Surrender now or prepare to fight!”

But I’m still in control of this situation, I assure myself. I can do this. I’ve selected the words I need to say, and I’ve selected them very carefully. “Elliot, I need you to referee.”

Elliot takes a step closer to me with Chica and Maria in front of him like a shield, forcing Derrick backwards. He lowers his voice so that only I can hear. 

“I’m not going to referee a battle that I don’t agree with. You realize this is like the game? When Red battled Blue at Silph Co.,” he says, naming the main character and his rival, “he had almost a full team, all somewhere in the upper 30’s. Your Pokémon are, what, 20’s at best? I didn’t think that I would have to explain to you that those are impossible odds.”

“I know what I’m doing,” I say, and, to my relief, the words come out sounding surprisingly confident. If my body language actually reflected the way I feel, I would be shaking like a leaf right now, but I can’t let Derrick know that. I have to look strong.

“Ok, maybe I’m wrong,” Elliot says. “Maybe the world still makes sense, and there’s no way he could have leveled up his Pokémon that fast. But all the crazy stuff that’s been happening? He’s a part of it. I can just feel it, ok? Back out now.”

“I can’t do that, Elliot. You have to trust me on this.”

“I’m telling you, take it back,” he says, raising his voice once more, but he doesn’t even wait for me to respond before he whirls on Derrick. “Take me on instead.”

Derrick laughs. “Why would I want to battle a puny weakling like you? Now get out of my way before I have my Pokémon clear my path for me.”

“Elliot, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” I say in a low voice. “I want you to stop arguing and follow my lead. I can handle this.”

He looks at me one last time. “You know he’s not going to hold up his end of the bargain if he loses. Why are you doing this?”

I focus my gaze straight into his eyes. “Because I know that I can save this building.”

***

“Alright, guys, it’s time.” My stomach lurches as I draw out the pokéballs one by one. I return all three Pokémon slowly, concentrating on holding my arm straight and maintaining a steady hand.

I’m worried, but not about my acting skills. After a long and drawn out argument about the terms of the battle, Derrick had finally won out. We would have a double battle, standard rules. What he doesn’t know is that those are exactly the terms that I wanted all along.

The Rockets have fallen out of their marching formation in favor of a wide “U” shape around the battlefield, surrounding us in a sea of black and red. Elliot stands on the opposite side, directly in front of the doors to the Silph Co. building, the halfway point between my side of the battlefield and Derrick’s. He looks at me, and I nod.

“Alright,” he says, “the battle will begin in 3, 2, 1!”

I throw one pokéball from each hand, managing surprising aim even with my less dominant arm. Serendipity and Chance appear side by side, returning the pokéballs they were released from with a backwards slap and a swift upwards snap of the head at just the right moments. I catch both easily.

Derrick is not so fortunate. The ball thrown with his left arm almost crashes into one of the Silph Co. building’s sparkling windows before releasing an Exeggcute who doesn’t even attempt to send it back to him. His Pidgeot doesn’t touch its pokéball, either, soaring off into the sky without a care in the world. According to standard rules, the trainers are not allowed to step onto the field unless the referee calls a time out, so if Derrick was planning on returning or switching out his Pokémon any time soon, he’s out of luck.

Even so, the advantage is clearly on his side. The last time we saw that bird Pokémon, it was a Pidgeotto. That was yesterday. How could it possibly have evolved so quickly?

The long red and yellow feathers on its head flow like streamers as it uses its insane nine foot wingspan to soar upwards on the currents of warm air radiating from the pavement. After a day as hot as this one, flight must be nearly effortless. Even though the sun is setting, I doubt it will cool off quickly enough to affect this battle. But there’s no time to think about that now.

“Pidgeot, use Quick Attack!” Derrick orders. “Exeggcute, Confusion!”

“Serendipity, Growl!” I counter. “And Chance, get behind her!”

Pidgeot immediately goes into a dive, tucking his wings tightly against his body to maximize his speed. He’s hurtling to the ground so fast that there’s no way for Chance to avoid it in time, but it turns out that he wasn’t aiming for Chance. Pidgeot’s pale pink beak rips into Serendipity’s bright pink skin with all the force of his downward momentum.

Their skulls collide with an audible thud, and I can feel the wind kicked up by the bird’s enormous wings as he catches himself from crashing all the way into the ground. I realize that he must have turned his head at the last minute to leave that gaping cut on Serendipity’s head, but I don’t have time to think about that. The Pidgeot is hovering at just over four feet above the ground, and even though I know the Exeggcute’s Confusion attack must be coming in, I look instead to Chance.

“Thundershock, now!” I shout.

Chance is just half a step to Serendipity’s right, having skidded to a stop as soon as he saw the attack hadn’t been directed at him. Fur already spiked up with a full charge, the Jolteon unleashes a bolt of electricity that closes the three foot gap between them so fast that it appears as nothing more than a flash of light against the creamy white feathers of Pidgeot’s chest.

The bird Pokémon lets out a screech as his body jerks with the force of the charge, barely managing to remain airborne.

“Defense Curl,” I tell Serendipity, the words almost drowned out as Derrick snaps, “Wing Attack that Jolteon! More Confusion, Exeggcute!”

To do a Wing Attack with any real force, Pidgeot will have to regain some height. His red tail feathers are dangling so low that Chance could almost jump up and take a bite out of them, and, after that last attack, I imagine it will take him a while to recover. High level or not, he was way too close and not even a little bit grounded. If he had been, the electricity could have gone through him and into the ground, which is why electric attacks are an absolute killer on Flying types.

Trusting Serendipity to Defense Curl as requested and Chance to work on building up more electric charge, I let my eyes dart over the Exeggcute I’ve been ignoring. 

I may have mentioned before that an Exeggcute looks like basically just a pile of eggs. Except that it’s not. The “eggs” all have faces on them, except for the creepy one in the back that looks like it’s been split open to the yoke. The others sport a variety of cracks and dents that make the Pokémon itself look deceivingly fragile. Oh, yeah, and mouths and eyes.

The important thing is, it's part Psychic, and from the thin set of its mouths and the angry triangles of its eyes, I’m assuming that I’ve caught it right in the middle of an attack. You can’t actually see a Confusion attack, you just know it’s happening by the reaction from its target. Basically, the Exeggcute is using the power of its mind to try to scramble Serendipity’s.

It’s still in the exact spot from which Derrick released it, which is fine by me, especially if it’s messing with Serendipity and not with Chance. We can’t let that go on forever, but it’s not the top priority right now. The only effect I can see in Serendipity right now is the frown that might accompany a mild headache while she curls her body tight to boost up her physical defenses.

Meanwhile, the Rockets are shouting like football fans at the Superbowl, the words so jumbled that any practical advice they might want to deliver is lost. Practical advice like, oh I don’t know, don’t use a special attack against a Blissey?

But Pidgeot has finally recovered and is gaining height. Chance’s fur gives off a crackle.

“Thundershock!”

But Pidgeot is faster, swooping down at a 45 degree angle that banks into a turn just in time for his right wing to smack into Chance’s head. It hits with so much force that he is physically thrown backwards almost to the far edge of the battle field. He slams back down onto the pavement with his legs folded underneath him, gasping hard as the wind is knocked out of him. He bows his head and pants desperately.

“Chance!” Tears spring up to my eyes. I can’t even think of the next order I was going to give. 

Serendipity dashes over as fast as her stubby legs will carry her. Chance thrusts out his front legs, refusing to give up the fight. The knees are bloody. He squints his eyes and gives a moan as he raises the front half of his body.

“Softboiled!” I tell Serendipity frantically.

Even from the other end of the battlefield, I can hear Derrick’s laughter rising up above the raucous crowd. “Exeggcute, finish him! Confu—“

His words are interrupted by a crack. Electricity zips through the air like a guided missile, up into the air where Pidgeot is not quite high enough.

In the same moment, Serendipity’s egg is glowing yellow with the energy of the healing move about to be released, and the Exeggcute across the field has redirected the gaze of its many eyes. Serendipity is mostly obscuring him from sight, but how can you block an attack that goes from mind to mind?

Chance’s Thundershock hits Pidgeot full force, eliciting an even louder screech than the last. Serendipity’s Softboiled assembles into an egg-shaped cloud of glowing powder, but the Exeggcute was faster. Chance’s eyes go unfocused, wobbling disturbingly this way and that before the lids fall shut like curtains closing over a window. He collapses into unconsciousness.


	14. Surrender Now

“Time out!” Elliot yells, not even waiting for the Pokémon to stop before rushing onto the field and snatching up the pokéball lying at the foot of the Silph Co. building.

I tear my eyes from Chance’s battered body and look up into the sky. Derrick’s Pidgeot is in a free fall, spiraling out of control.

Elliot throws the pokéball to Derrick. “Return him, now!”

Derrick catches the pokéball, but, instead of pointing it at his Pokémon to save it from its fall, he folds his arms.

Pidgeot recovers with just inches to spare, his tail feathers almost brushing the ground as he pulls up.

Derrick smiles.

Elliot runs at him. “What are you doing?” he shouts.

“Stop.” Derrick thrusts out his left hand, catching Elliot in the chest. Elliot takes a step back, his face red with anger.

“You didn’t say ‘Pidgeot is unable to battle’,” Derrick says, quoting the words that a referee uses to indicate that a trainer should pull out their defeated Pokémon. He says it as if it’s some kind of trump card, like it wins the argument for him unquestionably. “I knew he still had some fight left in him,” he brags.

Pidgeot turns a small circle before landing on the ground directly on top of the place where he would have crashed. He extends his right wing gingerly and turns his head to examine it, cooing in pain. The smell of burnt feathers and singed flesh is obvious even from here.

“You would have let your Pokémon die if you’d been wrong!” Elliot stays where he’s standing, but his arms shake as he digs his fingernails into his palms.

“Nothing in the rules against that,” Derrick replies obstinately. 

“Yeah, only because the government never even imagined someone could actually be heartless enough to try to pull something like that,” I cut in angrily.

“Doesn’t matter.” Derrick shrugs. “You can’t legally disqualify me.”

For a second, Elliot is completely speechless. He turns to me, maybe for help, maybe just to make sure that someone else understands how wrong this is, but what he sees are the results of the time out that he has called. Chance lying unconscious, unsettlingly still. Blood slowly dripping down Serendipity’s face. And her not even noticing it against the agony of holding her Softboiled move mere inches from her fallen friend and being completely unable to heal him with it.

“Chance is unable to battle,” he sighs, allowing me, at last, to return him to the pokéball that I’ve been holding. Elliot closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and turns back to Derrick. “You are going to pick up that other Pokéball. Your Pidgeot is going to start from that spot on the ground after I call time in. And you will return your Pokémon when I tell you to from now on.”

“Fine.” Derrick walks onto the field to retrieve his Exeggcute’s pokéball. As he comes closer, I can see that the pouch where he keeps his pokéballs is open. There are three more inside. Pidgeot’s is still in his hand. One of those three has to belong to his Abra and another to his Cyndaquill, but what about the other one? What if it’s something we can’t handle?

Since there isn’t any water for Unicorn to swim in, I just have one Pokémon left. Even if Pidgeot is basically done for, can Chica and Serendipity take on all four of his other Pokémon alone? Can they even last long enough to try?

I clutch Chica’s pokéball tightly, trying to squeeze all my nerves out through my hand and not let them show on my face. I’ve been calling out commands from along the sidelines so that I can see more than just my Pokémon’s backs, but now I walk back to my end of the field so that I can call Chica into battle from the proper position.

“Come on, let’s go!” one of the Rockets shouts.

“Derrick! Derrick! Derrick!” 

Ah, I see they’ve learned a new chant. Nice to know they’re not completely mindless. 

I sweep my gaze over our crowd of spectators, eyes glazing with the uniformity. Is it just me, or have their numbers gotten smaller?

Elliot waits until I turn back to the field before saying, “Ok, time in.”

I throw out Chica’s pokéball, which she returns to me with a sweep of her leaf as soon as she solidifies. Serendipity finally releases the glowing cloud of healing energy, channeling it back into herself. I make it back to my spot on the sidelines in time to see the cut made by Pidgeot’s beak seal itself up into a thick scab before my very eyes. It must feel good; she smiles in spite of herself and flexes her arms as if testing out their regained strength. Other than the scab, she looks completely healed, but I can tell that the injuries Chance received have affected her.

Chica, though, has no idea what just happened, and Derrick seems to be especially focused on her. “This is going to be fun,” he says. “Pidgeot, Wing Attack the Chikorita!”

“Catch it with a Razor Leaf,” I say. “Serendipity, use Defense Curl again.”

Derrick’s Pidgeot does his best to obey orders, flapping his long wings hard for takeoff, but as soon as he gets into the air, it’s apparent that he’s heavily favoring his left wing.

Blissey is such a round Pokémon to begin with that there’s not much curling to be done, but she tucks in her arms, and the white fringes of skin that appear almost like sleeves and pieces of a skirt press flat against her body while Chica’s leaf whirls through its warm up cycle.

Pidgeot has finally made it up to about the level of the Silph Co. building’s second story when the first of the razor-sharp leaves slices the ends off a few of his tail feathers. The second hits his chest in the same place where Chance’s first ThunderShock sank in, leaving a deep cut. Then he’s caught between so many leaves that it’s impossible to dodge, and even though Chica’s level is low and grass attacks don’t work well on flying types, it’s enough to make him decide he’s better off going back down to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Derrick rages. “I’ll tell you when you’re defeated.”

The bird Pokémon lands facing his trainer. He shakes his head twice and then goes still. Elliot holds up a finger.

“Chica, use Poison Powder on that Exeggcute. Serendipity, Double Slap.”

Elliot holds up a second finger.

“Exeggcute, Confusion on the Chikorita,” Derrick snaps.

Now a third.

Chica and Serendipity take off running towards the Exeggcute, but just before she reaches it, Chica falls to her knees.

“Ka,” she moans, shaking her head back and forth like she has water in her ears. Her leaf shakes with it, unleashing the Poison Powder she’d been building up. Serendipity is far enough away not to catch any of the stray particles, but they do sprinkle all over the egg-like Pokémon they were intended for, making all six of its mouths begin to cough.

“Pidgeot is unable to battle,” Elliot announces dryly, presumably having gotten to five.

Still moaning, Chica rolls onto her side. The Poison Powder has dispersed, and now Serendipity leaps in to deliver her first slap. Since Serendipity’s arms are so stumpy and the Exeggcute is so short, she opts to bring her hand down instead of sideways, smacking the first not-egg right on top of its shell-like head.

“Iss!” she hisses. Her mouth is an ugly curl.

Exeggcute’s eyes pop open wide, and Chica leaps to her feet. She wobbles heavily, but it’s clear that the Confusion attack has been cut off.

Serendipity darts over to each not-egg in turn and delivers the same punishment, seeming increasingly pleased with her contribution. On her fifth attempt, though, her target ducks down just far enough that her arm sweeps through empty air. She stops, thrown just slightly off balance.

“Softboiled for Chica,” I order, and she nods with determination.

Then I hear the roar.

“Chikorita girl, meet my Typhlosion!” Derrick crows.

My blood runs cold. “Chica, get behind Serendipity right now!”

Derrick laughs. “Aw, poor little salad afraid of the fire?”

“Rrrri,” Chica growls, but she doesn’t move away when Serendipity rushes over to position herself between the small grass type and the hulking five and a half foot long badger with what looks like an entire bonfire shooting from his back.

“Ty!” the Pokémon shouts. His eyes are narrowed with rage, and the heat comes off his body in waves, making it feel somehow even hotter than it was at 1:00 this afternoon.

My eyes dart out to the crowd. Yes, it’s definitely smaller than it was when we first started, but what does that mean?

Derrick laughs and laughs, giving Serendipity ample time to use Softboiled not just once but twice to make Chica feel as good as new. He sees it all but doesn’t even seem to care, and why should he? If that Typhlosion is as powerful as rival character Blue’s Charizard was at this exact point in the video game, it doesn’t matter how much health Chica has. One hit will be all it takes to finish her. And if it manages to hit her from close enough…

“You want to think carefully about what you’re doing right now, Derrick,” Elliot cautions. “You don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Pokémon don’t count,” Derrick replies. “Typhlosion—“

“Reflect and get down!” I gasp, reaching for Chica’s pokéball frantically.

Chica throws up a wall of pink-colored energy in front of herself and Serendipity and dives to the ground behind Serendipity, legs and leaf tucked close. Serendipity closes her eyes tight, trembling as she braces herself to feel the full force of the flames.

“Use Leer,” Derrick finishes, and bursts into laughter once again.

Unbidden, Serendipity and Chica both growl at the fire Pokémon, who narrows his eyes still further and pulls back his upper lip to reveal his long canines.

“Ah, ha! You should have seen the looks on your faces!” Derrick laughs. “Oh, this is so much fun I would hate to spoil it too early. Let’s see if I can find a way to make this better.”

I’m sweating, breathing hard, shaking all over. So much for not letting him see me be scared. Leer is probably just a throw away attack to him, but I know that it’s just lowered their defenses, cancelling out the Reflect I just threw up. Chica and Serendipity are growling like there’s no tomorrow to lower its attack, but, not having been given any other orders, the Typhlosion is still using Leer on them. It will all just cancel out.

I don’t have any choice.

“I…” my voice comes out like a squeak. I clear my throat.

“Oh, I know,” Derrick says. “I’ll open this up to the floor. Any of you Rockets have a good suggestion?”

“Tell Typhlosion to cook them really slowly,” suggests a Rocket near the front.

Derrick snorts. “That’s stupid. Next!”

“Have Typhlosion knock out the Blissey first, then barbeque the Chikorita,” another one suggests.

“Better,” Derrick approves.

Taking a deep breath, I prepare to force the words out of my mouth. Don’t think about the consequences, just say it, I tell myself. Say that you surrender.

“I don’t care as long as they both get roasted,” a third Rocket laughs. I turn to look at him, and then I gasp because, just a few feet behind him, I see a familiar face.

Hoping that Derrick is too busy to notice, I run over to Elliot and whisper in his ear. His eyes widen, and a smile breaks across his face for the first time in this entire battle. He waves to Mary Ann to get her attention and signs rapidly. She nods and rushes off, back in the direction of her house.

I turn around and walk as closely as I can to Serendipity without actually entering the battlefield. On the way, I pass Exeggcute, who’s looking worse and worse for the poison slowly spreading through its system and the complete neglect of its trainer to do anything about it. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s forgotten about it entirely. A short distance away, Serendipity has apparently decided that she’s maxed out the usefulness of Growl and has switched back to Defense Curl, useless as it is against the constant leering stare of the Typhlosion. As I approach, she turns to me curiously.

I can feel even myself smiling now because I have another secret that Derrick never knew about. I had known that Elliot was right about Derrick’s Pokémon being incredibly powerful. I had known from the start that I could never win this battle, but, the thing is, I had never actually been trying to.

“Serendipity,” I say, “use Sing.”

Serendipity frowns as if to ask whether I’m really sure. I nod.

“Blissey,” she says obediently. Then she opens her mouth and issues forth the sweetest notes that I have ever heard. 

It’s a song so beautiful I wish that I could find the words to describe it. It’s so beautiful that I wish I could remember it, but even as I’m hearing it I know that I never will because this song is a lullaby and I will be asleep long before she finishes it.

My breathing steadies, and my eyelids begin to droop. I fight off the drowsiness just long enough to see, through half-closed eyes, Elliot, Chica, Exeggcute, Typhlosion, and every single member of Team Rocket closing their eyes and falling limp directly where they stand. I look until I catch sight of Derrick lying on the ground with his hands underneath his head like a pillow, and I wish that I could chuckle, but my eyes are closed and I’m drifting away, hoping for sweet dreams and an even sweeter wake-up call.


	15. Trio

“Look, she’s opening her eyes!” I hear someone call.

“Mm?” I mumble, still half asleep. “Chica?”

I open my eyes to see her face hovering over me, the blue Everstone on her necklace dangling just inches above my nose.

“Chika!” she replies with a wide grin. Then she backs up just far enough to allow me to get into a sitting position.

“Have a nice nap?” Elliot asks. He steps forward and offers me his hand. “Guess what? We won.”

As he helps me to my feet, I hear, insanely, the sound of applause. Just one person at first, then growing and spreading until it’s all around me. The wide street in front of the Silph Co. building, previously packed with Team Rocket grunts standing shoulder to shoulder, is now equally filled with a crowd of an entirely different kind. Ordinary citizens, trainers, little kids, even the people from Sabrina’s gym look happy to see me again. The registration man who was arguing with me just hours earlier now smiles and nods. A little girl clutching a Clefairy Pokédoll jumps up and down with excitement when she sees me looking at her.

As the applause dies down, a woman wearing a white polka dotted dress steps out of the crowd.

“My name is Hilda,” she says. “I live in the house just across the street there. I saw the whole thing, and I would just like to say, on behalf of everyone in Saffron, thank you for saving our city.”

“Um,” I say.

She extends her right hand, offering me a handshake. My eyes dart back to the crowd. Yeah, I can’t exactly turn that down.

I shake her hand, saying, “You’re welcome, but I really didn’t do all that much. I was holding out for reinforcements, honestly.”

“Oh, nonsense, I know a hero when I see one,” Hilda says with a wink.

A hero? “No, there must be some mistake, I…”

“Sabrina’s coming!” someone calls. Actually, it sounds the same guy who told everyone that I was waking up. Do they actually have a designated lookout?

The crowd parts amid murmurings of “Sabrina! Sabrina!” The green-haired psychic walks forward regally, with her head held high and her mouth set into the same serious frown that never reaches the rest of her face. Mary Ann trips along behind her lightly, her dark hair and soft features making her look young and pretty next to Sabrina’s harsh symmetry and invisible weight of responsibility. Her Hypno Goran walks beside her rapidly, taking two steps for every one of hers and turning his head constantly as though looking for something. In his left hand, he holds the string of a metal amulet shaped like a circle.

Sabrina stops at a distance that feels just a bit too far away from me, which is somehow disconcerting. Mary Ann steps up to join her, and, on my side, Elliot does as well.

“We meet again,” Sabrina says simply.

“Yeah,” I say awkwardly. “So, you’re the one who fixed all this?”

“Are you kidding?” Elliot asks. “It was awesome! I can’t believe you missed it! A dozen Officer Jennys swooping around, tossing people in cuffs, Mary Ann’s Hypno darting around to use Hypnosis on anybody who started to wake up, and then Sabrina teleporting them all away like FWOOSH! I mean, I only caught the last few minutes, but it was really awesome!”

So Mary Ann must have gone to Sabrina for help, just as I hoped she might. I guess Sabrina teleported the police here all the way from Lavender Town.

“So the Rockets? And Derrick?”

“Will be charged for their crimes,” Sabrina answers.

A flood of relief courses through my body. That’s it. We made it through.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Sabrina, “but I really can’t stay. Chance is hurt; I have to get him to a Pokémon Center.”

“Already done,” she replies. She slides out her right hand, and a pokéball with a question mark sticker appears in it as if pulled out of the air.

“Did you see that?” Elliot asks. “She’s so psychic! I knew that she was psychic! I mean, I knew it when I saw her teleporting people, but you know what I mean. This is so cool!”

Sabrina raises an eyebrow, but he’s too busy bouncing up and down to notice. I roll my eyes and take the pokéball, placing it back into its spot on my belt as I look around for Serendipity.

“Your Blissey is offering her assistance to the injured,” Sabrina informs me.

“The injured?” For a second, I completely drop the plans I’m formulating for my escape from the limelight. “I didn’t know that anyone was hurt.”

“Team Rocket did not go down without a fight. Many citizens were hurt while trying to drive them away or resisting the house arrest that they attempted to enforce throughout the city. Many were injured during the course of the battle at my gym in spite of my best efforts to minimize the destruction.”

“There was a battle at your gym? I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

A smile tugs at Sabrina’s lips. “I imagine you were rather busy at the time. But you were just thinking that you would like to talk about this somewhere else. The appreciation of the crowd makes you uncomfortable. Come.”

She turns and walks purposefully towards the entrance of the Silph Co. building, not pausing or turning back for a second to see if we are following.

“Don’t touch the doors!” I exclaim, just as they fly open of their own accord.

Now Sabrina turns simply to raise an eyebrow at me.

“The doors aren’t electric-y anymore, though,” Elliot says, translating for Mary Ann as the five of us step forward.

“Really?” I say. “She just signed ‘electric-y’?”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not a perfect translator,” Elliot huffs, then watches as she spells something out. “Electrified, yeah, that’s the word for it. The doors aren’t electrified anymore. I guess someone fixed it.

I step into the lobby. It’s absolutely massive, the size of the entire ground floor. Half of the room is a reception area, with a large desk in the corner and back to back blue sofas. The east half houses no less than three large glass-covered tables, nine large potted plants, and at least ten chairs. There’s a staircase and an elevator and, at the very center, a pair of matching fountains spurt out a steady stream of water, practically screaming wealth. The most amazing thing, though, it that it appears to be completely deserted.

“The employees have been evacuated and taken to Lavender Town for a debriefing,” Sabrina says, answering the question that I didn’t ask. Man, it’s annoying when she does that.

“I regret to inform you that it would be difficult for me to stop,” she replies, sliding down onto the edge of one of the sofas. “For me, it is as natural as breathing.”

Seriously creepy.

“How awesome is that?” Elliot says. “I can’t believe I was afraid of you. You’re, like, the coolest person that I’ve ever met!”

He flops down on the couch next to her, making her shoot him a look out of the corner of her eyes. Mary Ann shrugs.

“So, are we going to have to get debriefed?” I ask.

“Officer Jenny was rather adamant about it, although I asked her to wait. Actually, it may interest you to hear that she suspected the two of you of being criminals yourselves.”

“She said that we looked … What’s the finger bendy?” Elliot asks Mary Ann. “Oh, suspicious. We looked very suspicious.”

“I managed to talk her out of arresting you,” Sabrina says, actually smiling now, if only briefly.

“So that’s it then, right? It’s all over.”

Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I sink down into the couch next to Sabrina and Elliot. Chica hops up on the cushion next to me and immediately begins to use it as a miniature trampoline.

“Ka! Ka!” she says, giving her leaf a happy twirl.

“I’m afraid that this is far from over,” Sabrina says, and a dark look crosses over her face once more. “After all that has taken place, still you doubt my words?”

“Words? What words?” Elliot asks.

“You did not tell him,” she accuses.

“What? Tell me what?”

Seemingly ignoring his question, Sabrina says, “You are similar to her. As are you.”

Mary Ann’s eyes widen as Sabrina points to her.

“All see what I cannot, but only one holds the true key.”

Oh great, more riddle-speak. Just what I was missing.

“This is serious,” Sabrina snaps. Strands of green hair flow across her face as she whips her head to me. “The answer lies in you alone. I have seen it. The disturbance in our world is growing greater by the day. You must accept your responsibility.”

“Wait,” Elliot says, “you told her all of this before? Hey, you, why didn’t you tell me?”

His voice sounds hurt, and somehow that makes me even more defensive.

“Because it’s stupid. What? I’m supposed to magically just step up and save the entire world? I am not a hero. There is nothing special about me. I don’t know anything about any kind of key, and I am really not in the mood for this right now. So if you’ll excuse me.”

I stand up. Chica stops bouncing on the couch cushion and looks at me with concern.

“The crowd’s still out there,” Mary Ann reminds me.

I look through the glass doors and frown with disgust. She’s right. There are swarms of them out there. And somehow I don’t believe they’d let me pin all the praise on Sabrina, no matter how much they love their gym leader.

I sit back down, making a point to fold my arms across my chest. I am still not happy.

“You,” Sabrina says, casting her eye on Elliot. “You believe the words that I say.”

“Yes.” Elliot’s head nods up and down like an over-eager bobble head.

“Then you must help her see the truth. When she is prepared, Mary Ann will help you retrieve the memory that you require.”

“The key is a memory?” Elliot asks.

Sabrina continues as though she has not heard. “I will be able to help you no longer. For too long now I have cast my third eye out to that which is beyond the power of my mind. It is for that reason that the events of today nearly ended in a crisis. The blame for all of this rests on me.”

“The attack wasn’t your fault!” Mary Ann signs.

“It was,” Sabrina says grimly. “If I had not been so foolish, I would have foreseen it. This internal battle ceases now.”

Is Sabrina really taking all the blame onto herself because she didn’t see Team Rocket coming? No one saw Team Rocket coming. They weren’t supposed to be here. They aren’t supposed to even exist. Not outside the TV show and the video games.

But that internal battle that she mentioned, is that what Mary Ann was talking about earlier? Sabrina’s so-called third eye battling against the weird memory loss connected to the disappearances? If Sabrina gives up fighting that, she won’t understand what’s going on anymore. She’ll become just as clueless as the guy who told me that Cerulean City had never had a police station before.

“This advice to you will be my last,” Sabrina says. “I must protect my city, but in the three of you I place my trust, for you are the ones who will preserve our world.”

She stands up slowly. “I have left the citizens waiting for far too long. Saffron has elected me as its mayor as well as its gym leader, and I believe the time has come for me to make an address. If you wish, you may slip out the back door to run from the people, but know that you cannot run from the truth.”

What is she, a freaking fortune cookie?

“Let’s go,” I say to Elliot.

As Sabrina opens the glass doors to the sound of cheers, I lead our little group in the direction that Sabrina pointed to. Mary Ann and Goran follow. We step out a plain metal door onto a deserted street on the north side of the building. The sun has finally set, and the temperature is dropping. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the evening air.

Mary Ann looks at me with furrowed eyebrows. “How are you?”

“Fine. Well, actually, I’m starving, but other than that I’m fine.”

“No,” she signs. “I mean really. How are you?”

Briefly, I wonder how much she knows about Derrick. Next to nothing, probably. She only just saw the end of our battle. Is it really that obvious that I’d had a rough time of it?

I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know it’s none of my business,” she signs, “but I think you should.”

“Elliot,” I accuse, “you just made that up. She didn’t really sign that.”

Mary Ann’s eyes widen in shock before sinking into a frown. She looks at me and nods emphatically.

“Um, I think that means she really did,” Elliot says.

“Thank you, Elliot. I got that. Sorry, it’s just that’s the exact same thing he said yesterday.”

“Maybe he was right.”

“Wait,” Elliot says, clearly breaking off to speak on his own again. “Did she just say that I was right? Awesome! Nobody ever tells me that I’m right!”

Mary Ann laughs, then gestures down the street. “Come back to my house and have dinner with me. We’ll meet … your Blissey there.”

“Is that your sign for Blissey?” Elliot asks. “Neat!”

Mary Ann makes the sign again, tracing an egg shape with her hands in a downward sweeping motion at her stomach and ending with her fingers splayed like the fringes of a skirt at her hips. “It’s not really a sign; I was just trying to show you what I meant.”

“Well, I like it,” Elliot says.

“It’s really nice of you to offer,” I say, going back to her invitation. “Thanks.”

“It’s no trouble,” she signs as we begin walking. “After all, Sabrina said that I could help you find this key. I don’t know how, but getting to know you better seems like a good start.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that you’re buying into all of this,” I groan.

“You forget that I can see into Sabrina’s head. She’s not making any of this up.” She pauses, and a frown passes over her face. “Unless you’re saying that you don’t want me to help?”

“No, no, of course not,” I say quickly.

“Are you saying that you want to come with us?” Elliot asks excitedly.

“I think I would like that.”

“Yes!” Elliot pumps his fist in the air. “The three of us taking on a mission to save the world. This is going to be epic!”

“No, Elliot,” I sigh. “That is exactly what we are not going to do.”

Elliot turns to Mary Ann. “Oh, don’t pay any attention to her. She’s just a downer. Everyone knows that I am the true leader of this group.”

I snort. “Uh huh, sure. You can be the leader when we need someone to lead us straight off a cliff.”

“Hey, if that’s what it takes to save the world.”

“Ok, fine, you want this job? Go ahead. Elliot’s the one who saved the world. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Aha! So you do admit we’re saving the world!”

Ugh. This is going to be a long night.


	16. Sunrise

“Come on, come on, let’s go,” I mutter, tapping my fingers against my leg anxiously.

Elliot and Mary Ann are still there at the front counter, signing back and forth and chatting with Nurse Joy. I catch a glimpse of Mary Ann smiling midway through a sign before I duck my head back behind the pillar where I’m hiding.

The sooner we get out of here, the better. It’s still dark for now, but it won’t be long before sunrise brings out all of my “fans”. I even heard that the president of Silph Co. tried to arrange some kind of big thank you ceremony for me today, that he wants to present me with some special gift to show their gratitude. Parading around like some kind of big shot in front of all those people? Nope. I’m skipping town.

I risk one more peek around the corner, this time managing to catch Mary Ann’s eye. “Can we go?” I mouth.

She casts a fleeting glance at Nurse Joy, but nods, touching Elliot’s arm lightly to get his attention. He pauses midsentence, and, seeing the situation, decides to cut it short.

“Anyway, thanks again for everything, Nurse Joy.”

“You are very welcome,” the pink-haired nurse replies. As I come up alongside the desk, I can see that she’s beaming.

“And thank you, young lady, for helping Mary Ann,” she says to me. “When I sent you to her yesterday, I had no idea that things would work out so well.”

Stopped in front of the desk now, I shuffle my feet. “Yes, well, it was really just lucky that Elliot was with me.”

“Of course. Have a safe trip, now!”

“We will,” Elliot replies.

I jump, catching sight of the escalator beginning to move. Someone’s coming down from the second floor. I double-time it to the door and make a sharp turn to the east, encouraging Elliot and Mary Ann to hurry up simply by refusing to slow down. Goran is the last one out, which surprises me as I hadn’t seen him out of his pokéball at all this morning. It seems a bit odd to let him out inside of the Pokémon Center just before we leave, but I guess they can do whatever they want.

I wait on letting out Chica until we exit the southern guardhouse. The sky is just beginning to turn a delicate shade of pink as we step out onto Route 6, a short, if a bit roundabout, path to Vermillion City, the place where I first met Elliot. As the red light of her release fades, Chica tilts her head up and ahs at the colors. There are few things that Chica enjoys more than a beautiful sunrise.

“We should be able to make it there in just a few hours,” I report.

“Unless we stop for breakfast?” Mary Ann signs hopefully.

“Yeah, you already made me get up insanely early,” Elliot agrees. “There’s no way I’m skipping out on breakfast.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you starve. I packed trail mix.”

Elliot makes a face.

“What’s wrong with trail mix?” I ask defensively.

“It’s just that you make it all the time. And half of it is walnuts.”

“They’re a good source of protein!”

“I think that sounds good,” Mary Ann signs, cutting off our argument. “But the thing is, I made this spinach quiche before we left. And fresh cinnamon rolls.”

“Fresh cinnamon rolls!” Elliot repeats, completely ignorant of the fact that he absolutely murdered the pronunciation of the word ‘quiche’. “Oh, we are not turning that one down. Let’s sit over here.”

He walks over to a nearby area of grass. “I bet we could even spread out a blanket or something. You’ve got one in that magic bag of yours, right?”

I can’t believe it. I’ve just been outvoted. That doesn’t happen. I always make the decisions, but now even Chica is walking around the spot of grass Elliot pointed to, peering off to the east like she’s looking for the perfect angle to watch the sun rise over the treetops.

“Yeah, I have a blanket,” I admit, for once cursing my preparedness. I pull my messenger bag’s remote out of my pocket and scroll through the listings until I get to the big red checkered one that actually looks exactly like a picnic blanket.

“I just wanted to use up some of the food in my fridge before I left,” Mary Ann signs. Elliot translates it straight, but I can see that her face is apologetic.

I feel just the slightest increase of weight as the blanket rematerializes inside my messenger bag.

“It’s alright,” I say as I reach inside and pull it out. “It’s not like we really know what we’re doing yet, anyway. We might be able to observe these weird changes here as well as anywhere. Dr. Clark doesn’t really know.”

I grab the blanket by one end and toss the other into the air to straighten it out. To my surprise, Goran catches hold of it on the other side and helps me lower it to the ground.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

He nods.

“That’s true, actually,” Elliot says. “I mean, just look at what happened yesterday. We thought that Team Rocket wasn’t supposed to even exist here.”

“It’s not just disappearances anymore,” I agree. “Now things are being added, too.”

“It’s like there’s no pattern to it at all,” Mary Ann signs. Then she reaches into the big purple shoulder bag she brought and pulls out a pie tin wrapped in tin foil, which she hands to Goran before reaching back in for a clear plastic container holding what even I have to admit are some delicious-looking cinnamon rolls.

As Goran lays the pie tin out in the center of the blanket, I reach out to offer my help with the tin foil, but even with his large, blocky fingers, he handles it with ease. I guess I’m just used to Pokémon like Chica and Serendipity, who have no fingers.

“Actually,” I say to Mary Ann. “There is kind of a pattern, although not much of one. You told us last night that you didn’t really know anything about Pokémon before you got here, didn’t play the games or anything. Well, everything that’s happened, I can’t help but notice, has made this world closer to the pretend world that you would actually see on that screen. That’s how I knew that Team Rocket was going to go after the Silph Co. building yesterday. But only after they showed up.”

“Yeah,” Elliot says. “None of this makes any sense if you wonder why Team Rocket showed up in Saffron yesterday or why Pewter City started shrinking a few days ago.”

“But I’ll bet I know how Pewter City is going to end up,” I say grimly. “No more street lights or power lines or hospitals. Just a little collection of buildings that are ridiculously constructed and all look the same. I know the game so well I bet I could draw you out a map.”

“Here, have some kwi-che,” Elliot says, shoving a plate at my face. “You look like you need to cheer up.”

“It’s pronounced ‘keesh’,” I inform him, arcing my eyebrows.

Mary Ann pauses from her slicing of the pie-like dish and points to me with a smile.

“Oh, so it’s all fancy pants,” Elliot replies. “Who cares? Just sit down and eat it!”

I chuckle, taking the plate from his hands. I do like spinach.

“Kaaaah!” Chica shouts happily. The highest tip of the sun has finally come into view. She leaps to her feet, dancing in the first soft rays. The air fills with sweet floral scents -- wisteria and cherry blossoms –- growing stronger with every second that she skips and hops.

“See? Chica knows how to have fun. Come on out, Maria.” Elliot tosses out his Glaceon’s pokéball, and I do the same for Chance and Serendipity. Soon all the Pokémon are dashing around in a spontaneous game of tag. All the Pokémon except for Goran, who doesn’t seem to be interested in participating.

“This is really good, Mary Ann,” I compliment, being careful not to talk with my mouth full of pie crust.

She smiles and pops the lid off of the cinnamon rolls. Elliot reaches for one immediately, but before he can even take a bite, a bird Pokémon swoops down and snatches it out of his hand.

“Hey!” I stand up to shoo it away, but Elliot grabs my arm and pulls me back down.

“It’s ok,” he says. “Look!”

The Pokémon, a large brown bird with a white underbelly and webbed feet, has landed on the far corner of the picnic blanket. Using its right wing like a hand, it takes the cinnamon roll out of its long orange beak and holds it while it takes a bite.

“Faar,” it says appreciatively, licking up the drips of icing at the edges of its beak.

Mary Ann slowly reaches out a hand towards it, but the Pokémon responds by quickly swinging down the green stick it’s holding. She pulls her hand back with a look of surprise, and the stick hits the blanket instead.

“No,” Goran says threateningly, taking a step forward.

Chica, Chance, and Serendipity pause their game and start paying very close attention.

“Wait!” Elliot says. “Everybody wait. This is the Pokémon I’ve been trying to catch.”

“Farfetch’d,” it agrees, popping the rest of the cinnamon roll into its mouth.

“I knew you’d come around eventually,” Elliot says. “I knew it! So what do you say, do you want to be one of my Pokémon?”

Farfetch’d narrows its eyes slightly. Really, that could mean just about anything since it looks like the only facial expression it’s actually capable of.

“Come on, please?”

“Farfetch’d.” It brings its wings up and down in a shrugging motion.

Elliot breaks into a smile and reaches into his drawstring bag for a pokéball. “I know I've got one in here somewhere.” He shuffles around a little. “Ah, here it is!”

He presses the button to expand it and rolls it softly across the surface of the blanket. It keeps rolling right on top of Farfetch’d’s flat left foot before popping open with a glow of red light. Farfetch’d dematerializes into energy and disappears.

The pokéball clicks shut and shakes, one, two, three times, making the ball look like it’s a little antsy. And then the capture sound, the confirmation that this Pokémon’s energy and readings have been successfully locked in.

“Yes!” Elliot exclaims, and the next words come out like a mix between a chant and a song. “I caught a Pokémon, I caught a Pokémon!”

He jumps off the blanket and dances around in a circle, waving around his arms from the elbow and generally looking so ridiculous that I fall over laughing, the soft cotton of the blanket rubbing against my cheek as I shake uncontrollably.

Mary Ann is laughing, too, but she’s also signing something.

“I’ve wanted to catch him ever since I saw him outside of Vermillion,” Elliot says, stopping his dance. “It has taken forever to win him over, though, let me tell you. All that bread. I guess he really just wanted a cinnamon roll!”

“I thought.” I pause, struggling to hold back a giggle. “I thought you said you wanted a Pokémon to help you defeat the next gym leader.”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

“I hope you realize…” This time I do let out a giggle. “That the next gym leader is Lieutenant Surge, the electric type gym leader. He’ll be almost as useful as your Magikarp!”

I laugh again.

“Hey, no insulting Kyu. He can do it. I know he can. I’ll teach him how to fight on the ground. Besides, how awesome is it to actually find a wild Farfetch’d?”

“That is super rare,” I admit. “Maybe their numbers are finally starting to bounce back. But what was that you called him? Q? Like the letter?”

“K-y-u,” Elliot replies.

Mary Ann jumps in with what I can safely identify as some kind of question.

“Well, they’re basically just really rare,” Elliot says without bothering to translate for me.

“Yeah, because they used to make a really popular main course,” I add.

“Wait, what?!” Elliot snatches the pokéball up from the blanket.

“You didn’t know that? Yeah, it is really unfortunate that a Pokémon that looks and probably also tastes like a duck walks around carrying a green onion that makes a perfect seasoning for Farfetch’d soup.”

Elliot’s mouth drops open. He looks absolutely horrified.

“Of course, that was before the government outlawed eating Pokémon of any kind and everyone became a pescatarian. You know, not eating any meat except for fish?”

Having finally closed his mouth, Elliot opens it again.

“NOT Magikarps. It’s beyond me, but they somehow managed to make the intelligence quotient. I’m talking about the ones that don’t talk like tuna and salmon. I can’t believe you didn’t know this.”

Elliot holds Kyu’s pokéball to his chest like he’s afraid someone is going to snatch it away and dump his new friend into a frying pan. “Well, I’ve only been in the Pokémon world for a few weeks.”

“’Only’ a few weeks?” Mary Ann repeats. “Wait, how long have you been here?”

She points to me.

“Over a year.”

“And Dr. Clark?”

“Um, a few months, I think he said.”

“Is there anyone else here from the real world?”

“Not as far as we know of,” Elliot says.

“So you’re the first.”

“Well, yeah, I guess so.” I shrug.

“You don’t think that’s important?”

“No?”

“You don’t know anything more than we do about how we got here? Sabrina said that you have some kind of key, only you. What if she was trying to say that you somehow unlocked the way between our world and this one?”

I frown. “Well, if I did, I certainly didn’t know what I was doing.”

It’s at this point that Chica wanders over with a hungry look in her eyes. Chance comes up beside her, sniffing the air deeply to catch the scent of warm cinnamon roll wafting up from the picnic blanket.

“Can I share some with the Pokémon?” I ask Mary Ann.

“Of course.” She gestures towards Goran, who’s already halfway through his own plate of quiche. I guess I didn’t notice because he’s eating exactly like a human, holding the plate in his left hand and making expert use of the fork in his right.

“Can you tell me everything that you remember about how you got here?” Mary Ann asks as I use the knife to slice a small piece of quiche each for Chance, Chica, and Serendipity and cut a cinnamon roll in half.

“I thought Elliot told you in that long conversation that you had,” I say.

“He did, but it was very brief.”

“I told her everything that you told me,” Elliot cuts in.

I set two plates of food on an open spot near the edge of the blanket and hand the third to Serendipity. I look for Maria and see that Elliot has already started splitting his food with her.

“Well, I’m sorry, but that’s everything there is,” I say. “I went to bed and woke up in the Fuchsia City Pokémon Center wearing these clothes and with this bag full of basic supplies on a chair next to me.”

“And the only thing you remember about the day before you woke up here is that you had been thinking about Pokémon because you found one of your old video games?”

“Pokémon Blue.” I nod. “Well, technically that’s not all I can remember, but I can’t see how any of that is important.”

“Anything might be important,” Mary Ann signs.

I feel my irritation growing. All this poking around, making me think back to that because they think that I have some kind of answers to all of this. Well, I don’t, and I really wish they would believe me when I say that.

“You want the whole story? Fine,” I snap. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know about that day. But only after we get to Vermillion City.”

“Really?” Elliot asks, looking up in surprise. Maria takes advantage of the opportunity to snatch the last bite of pastry right out of his hand, licking her lips with satisfaction.

“Really,” I sigh. “But don’t push it. I’m regretting this already.”


	17. Memory

“Alright, we’re in Vermillion City now,” Elliot says. “Tell us the story!”

I roll my eyes and gesture towards our surroundings. “Elliot, we’re in the middle of the guardhouse, not in Vermillion City.”

“Close enough.”

I shake my head and step out to see that Vermillion City looks a bit different from the last time I was here. Last time, I thought it looked basically like it does in the game. Now, it looks like an exact replica, down to every single brick and strand of grass.

Elliot comes up beside me and stops dead. Mary Ann signs something, but it’s like he didn’t even notice. She taps his arm until he turns to look at her.

“The beaches have square corners,” he says in confusion. “That… doesn’t look right. They weren’t like that before. And why is the SS Anne just sitting at the dock? It should be on its morning trip to Two Island by now.”

“There’s something else, too,” I say. “I can’t put my finger on it, but somehow it’s all just a lot more simple, you know? Like, so simple it looks artificial.”

“Mary Ann’s saying that the grass is all the same height and the same color green, like it’s not actually alive,” Elliot reports dully. “She wants to know what the city looked like before.”

“Not like this.” I turn to Mary Ann. “I guess this is a little hard on him because this is the place where he started out. As I understand it, he was only here for like a week—“

“But it was the greatest week of my life,” Elliot says.

He looks so downcast that I decide Dr. Clark’s measurements can wait. I don’t care what he said about how essential it is to gather as much data as possible or about how he wants me to get back to Fuchsia City as quickly as possible. Scientific investigation does not trump everything.

“Let’s reserve our rooms at the Pokémon Center,” I say. “Do you want to share a room with me, Mary Ann? We can probably get a nicer one that way.”

She nods her head, and her hand, fingers curved down to the palm and held at shoulder height, nods along with it.

“Is that the sign for yes?” I ask, copying the gesture.

Mary Ann makes the sign again, smiling widely.

“I think I can remember that one.”

We walk in the doors and straight up to the counter.

“Can we get two rooms for the night, please?” I ask.

Nurse Joy stares back at me blankly. “This is a Pokémon Center.”

“Yes, I know.” I stare back.

“Would you like me to heal your Pokémon?” Again with the strangest look.

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt, but we would really like to get some rooms. Are they all full?”

I’ve never heard of a Pokémon Center being completely full before, not even on the days when the most challengers appeared at Koga’s gym in Fuchsia City. This is weird. I suppose it’s possible, though.

Then, with a jolt, I realize what the strange look is. Nurse Joy is examining me like a hospital patient.

“Would you come with me for a moment, please?” she asks. “I’d like to give you a quick checkup.”

I take a step back instinctively. “Oh, no, I’m perfectly fine. I just, um, felt a little light-headed for a moment there. I think maybe I’m a bit dehydrated. I’ll just go sit down over there in the waiting area and get something to drink and I’m sure I’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“Dehydrated?” Elliot repeats disbelievingly.

Mary Ann grabs his arm and signs something rapidly.

“I mean, dehydrated!” he backpedals. “Yes, of course. We have been walking for quite a long time now without water. Ha, ha.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to receive a free check up?” Nurse Joy asks in concern. “Dehydration can be quite serious.”

“No, we’re sure. A few minutes of rest, that’s all we need.”

We all walk over to the waiting area and make a big show of sitting down and taking long drinks of water from the bottles I pop out of my bag. Once Nurse Joy has finally stopped looking, I say, in a low voice, “Well, this isn’t good.”

“Are all of the Pokémon Centers going to be like this?” Elliot asks.

No one answers.

“We have to find a way to stop this,” Mary Ann signs. She looks at me.

Suppressing a groan, I say, “I guess it’s a good thing that I packed a tent. Let’s go find a nice spot for a campsite, and, once we’re there, I can prove to you that I know nothing at all about any of this.”

The obvious message is, of course, that this is a conversation that would be more safely held in the middle of the woods where no one will be around to overhear us.

Mary Ann signs “yes”.

“Feeling much better now thanks!” I call to Nurse Joy, who’s thankfully busy healing the Pokémon of another trainer as we walk out the door.

To the south and the west is nothing but water. East is the way to get to Fuchsia City, so I direct us that way, even though I’m starting to get really nervous about what we’ll find when we get there. How can it get any worse than this?

At least the forests are still real, I note as we hop a fence into a grove of trees that are definitely not identical to the perfect rows and columns of video game background filler. They’re actually different sizes. And not all evergreens. I hear skittering sounds overhead and look up to see a long-eared Sentret looking down at me from the branches of an aspen. That’s an unusual place to see one; they’re a grassland Pokémon native to Johto.

“At least some things haven’t turned into a direct copy of the games,” I say to Elliot, pointing up at it.

He nods. “I think we’re far enough in now. No one should be able to hear us.”

I sigh. I know that I agreed to this, but I guess somehow I hoped I would feel just a little bit more willing to talk when the time came to actually go through with it. Instead, I’m feeling worse than ever. I lean up against the tree with the Sentret in it, and Chica sits on a small pile of leaves a few feet away, her own leaf swaying gently back and forth with the scent of honeysuckle.

“Let’s start with something easy,” Mary Ann suggests, sitting down at a spot that forms the third corner of a triangle between where she, Elliot, and I are positioned. “Do you remember what month it was?”

I sigh again. “Yes, I remember what month it was. It was April. April 24th. The day before my birthday.”

“How old?” Mary Ann signs.

“Eighteen.” I take a breath, feeling it all rushing back to me. “I’d been waiting so long to turn eighteen. It meant that I could finally get out of there, go off on my own and do whatever I wanted. I didn’t know where I would be going the next day, but I knew it would be far, far away from anyplace where I had ever lived or even visited with some foster family that never really cared about me anyway.”

I notice that Elliot is completely quiet, just looking at me. Maria, sitting in his lap with her front legs crossed, has the identical expression. Mary Ann has her hands folded in her lap, probably hoping for me to continue without any more prompting.

“Well, I’d spent the whole day waitressing, trying to make the most of my last day cause I wasn’t sure how fast I’d be able to find another job. I graduated high school a semester early, you know, so I could really save up some money. I’m not stupid, you know, I had a plan.

“So I get off of work and for once I actually go back to the foster home early because I want to pack, you know? So I get together all my clothes and stuff and start shoving it in to my old backpack, which I’ve had basically forever. Good for always moving back and forth. The one thing you always take is the thing that holds stuff. Anyway, if it really matters, that was when I noticed the rip in the lining, and I fished in there and pulled out my old game of Pokémon Blue. Just the cartridge. I thought I lost that thing forever ago.

But it wasn’t like it was any use to me now, so I took it out. Then my foster parents came in to give me this talk. Weird cause they aren’t exactly the touchy-feely type. That’s why I’d stayed with them for the past four years. They didn’t ask questions, they let me do my own thing, and they stayed out of my business. By the end the foster home was just the place I went to sleep.

“But they wanted to talk to me that night, say that they were going to miss me and that I could come back if I ever got in trouble. Nice of them to offer, but there was no way I was ever going to do that. So they just kept talking, and then I had to deal with my annoying foster sister for a while, the new one. Eight years old and a pain, but they put her in my room because they didn’t have any other space. I eventually convinced her to go play something so that I could finish packing and get to sleep. I wanted to get up early the next morning, leave as soon as possible, before anyone else was awake. So I went to sleep. And that was it.”

Still, everything is quiet. Not even Chica is saying anything, but the scent of her leaf has changed to something more like tea leaves. Goran is the only one who seems to be looking at me normally, which, you know, at least somebody is.

“That’s it,” I repeat. “End of story. I don’t know how I got to the Pokémon world, I don’t have any kind of key, and, as you can see, I gave you way more detail than I needed to, so I would appreciate it if you would all quit bugging me.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m sorry,” Elliot says. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to talk about it. I still don’t. That’s all behind me now, and I say good riddance.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Mary Ann signs. “I think you’re wrong, though. There is something important there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what it is, but there’s something, a certain vibration to that memory.”

“A vibration?”

Mary Ann’s eyes widen. “Oh. Did I forget to tell you what my psychic talent is? Sorry, it just seems so natural to me that I forget. I have a way with memories. And emotions to some extent. I can sort of feel them.”

“You can feel memories?” I repeat.

She makes the nodding motion with her hand: yes.

“I can help you with that memory if you’d like. You’ll be able to remember more than you ever thought you could. There’s something, something there beneath the surface. I could help you get to it.”


	18. Explosion

“Let me get this straight: you think there’s some ‘vibration’ to this memory, and now you want to go fishing around inside my head?” I ask Mary Ann. “How many times do I have to tell you that there’s nothing there? Here I am pouring out my heart and soul, which I didn’t even have to do in the first place, and all you can say is ‘thanks, but I want more’?”

Mary Ann shakes her head quickly, eyes wide like she's trying to look completely innocent.

“What, then? Because that sure is what it sounds like. It sounds like you can’t bear to admit that your precious theory was wrong and that Sabrina was, too. That’s what this was, wasn’t it?” I say, suddenly realizing. “This whole thing about me being the first one and needing me to tell you about my past so you could understand. All the time you were just digging until you found something you could twist into proof, so that you and Elliot could finally force me into being this hero. Just like this thing that dumped me here and stole my name and stole my life. That's what it's been trying to make me into all along, giving me these clothes, conjuring up a rival, circling everything around me like I’m someone special. Well, if it picked me, it made a pretty lousy choice. There is nothing about me that is special. I am not special.”

“Yes you are,” Elliot says.

“Don’t even.” I can’t stand that tone in his voice, that way he’s looking at me. Like I’m a baby Eevee that someone beat up and left out in the cold. “Don’t even start.”

Mary Ann is signing frantically. “That’s not what this was about at all. Elliot and I were trying to help you. We—“

“And you thought that this would help me? You don’t get it. You just don’t get it at all, do you? You don’t know what it was like growing up in a bunch of foster homes. You don’t know any of the stuff I went through. You can't even imagine what it would be like not to have parents.”

“NOO!” Goran bellows.

I cry out, feeling a sharp pain in my head. I could swear that someone’s taken a hammer to my skull and pounded a nail straight into my brain. I fall to my knees, clutching at my head while my vision blurs.

“AAA!” Chica roars. She’s nothing but a green blur to me, speeding forward like a bullet. I hear the crash like a clang of cymbals as the green blur punches into the yellow. And then my head is clear again, and I’m crying and gasping for breath, and I see that Mary Ann is crying, too, but I don’t know why, and Chica is growling at Goran fiercely as she whips up her leaf for the next attack, and Goran’s hand is curled into a fist as he pulls it back to deliver the punch.

“Stop!” Elliot yells, sending Maria flying off his lap as he jumps to his feet. “Stop this right now, you’re supposed to be friends!”

He jumps into the middle of the battle just in time to get a Pound attack to the ribs. Mary Ann rushes forward and physically pulls Goran backwards, holding him by both arms. I regain enough mental clarity to find Chica’s pokéball and return her to it, and as I look at the tears still running down Mary Ann’s face, it comes to me like a Thundershock that I am the one who caused all this. It's all my fault. All of this.

Then somehow things go murky, and the next thing I know I’m leaping to the side to avoid a head-on collision with a tree. I’m running now. When did I start running?

I can hear Elliot shouting at me, and I can’t make sense of what he’s saying, but I know I have an overwhelming urge to get away, far away from all the mess and the pain. Away from the blame that I deserve but am terrified to face. Oh, so that’s why I’m running.

My thoughts swim out again before I can grab on to anything more clear, and then in my head are the words “Vermillion Meadow Tournament”. That makes no sense at all. What… oh.

“You guys, it’s her!” shouts a familiar voice. “She’s back!”

The tournament, the tournament that I set up without even meaning to when all I wanted was to get out of a Pokémon battle. A whole new group of people who think I’m absolutely awesome. A whole new group of people who will hate me when they find out that they're wrong. And their senseless adoration grates hard against my guilt.

But they're coming towards me now, a crowd of blurry forms, going to surround me, going to make me trapped.

“Run! Run!” the voice in my head says, and it’s all that I can think. Yes, run, but there’s nowhere else to go. They’re circling all around-- blockages, obstacles, I can’t read their faces. More trees.

And now I’m lost. Totally lost. My internal compass is knocked out. I can’t hear anyone shouting anymore. That's good. Wait, why is that good? If I can't hear anyone, it means that I'm alone, and that means that I am definitely lost. How deep in the forest did I have to go before I completely lost everybody who was chasing me? And how long is it going to take me to get out again?

I look around, noting the patterns of the bark, mentally tracing the veins of a dead leaf, realizing that I can see and think clearly again. For the most part. I have an awful headache still, but at least now I can put together all the pieces and know that Goran hit me with a Confusion attack that resulted in, well, you know, the confusion.

My mind replays the image of Chica delivering a Tackle, Elliot jumping in the middle, Goran’s fist connecting. Elliot was hurt. Why didn’t I stay to see if he was ok? And the fight. Chica was defending me. Goran attacked because he was angry. Mary Ann was crying. And I, I was the insensitive jerk who got so wound up that I didn’t stop to think about what I was saying. I told her she didn’t understand what it would be like not to have parents, and both her parents died three weeks ago.

I knew dredging up the past was a bad idea. I knew that all of this was a bad idea. I should have kept it locked away, safe in my head where no one would ever have to see this ugly thing. Where no one could get hurt by the ugly thing it turned me into.

In a sudden burst of mental clarity, I pull out my cell phone. Three missed calls. Two from Elliot, one from Dr. Clark. On top of everything else, I still haven’t done those measurements. There are voicemails, but I don’t have time to listen to them. I push the button to call Elliot back.

“Ring, ring, ring! Ring, ring, ring! Phone call!” I pull the phone away from my ear and wince. Even the sound that shows the phone on the other end is ringing is that stupid ringtone. And it just made my headache that much worse. I hold it out as far away from my ear as I can while still being able to hear the falsely cheerful mechanical voice that tells me it's still ringing.

“Phone call! Phone call!” the phone says, for the fourth time now. Elliot isn’t answering.

I end the call and select the option to send a text instead. An option that is way too hard to find because, according to Dr. Clark, people in the Pokémon world don’t get the point of texting when they can video call. To them, it’s just a weird extra feature.

Clearly, the keypad isn’t built for it either. No QWERTY keyboard, no auto complete to speak of. I seriously have to push the number 4 three times to get out the letter “I”.

Slowly, I tap out the message, “im sorry” and hit send. I stare down at the little screen, not even knowing what to say next. I messed up. I really messed up. I have to make it right. I have to say the perfect thing and I have to say it now. What if they never forgive me for this? What if they decide I'm too messed up to even be around?

“What have we here?” Rough hands grab my wrists and twist them hard.

I gasp with pain and surprise. The phone clatters to the ground. I pull back hard, trying to free myself, trying to wrench away a hand so I can reach my pokéballs. There’s a cold panic in my stomach.

The hands that grabbed me squeeze down harder. Too strong to break free, not even with the smooth surface of the gloves the hands are wearing. Gray gloves coming down from black sleeves. Black shirt, black pants, black hat, and a bright red “R”.

“Well, if it isn’t the girl with the Chikorita,” the man says. “The boss’ll be happy to see you.”

I continue to wrestle, pulling back with my whole weight. No good. I snap forward, swinging with my knee. And a third hand karate chops my thigh, the pain exploding my headache into stars. His Pokémon, of course. It must have been standing behind me. Gray hand. Machamp?

The pain has brought me to the ground. As close as I can get with my arms being wrenched out of their sockets by the force of my own weight against the man's iron grip. I feel a foot on my back, holding me down, pushing me further as my arms are finally released. I use my hands to catch myself, but then they’re grabbed again, wrenched backwards now.

“Let me go!” I shout. “Let me go!”

I can feel the rope tying my hands together. I jerk and twist, trying to bend my wrists far enough to claw at the hands tying the rope.

“Quit struggling,” the man growls. “This’ll be easier if I don’t have to knock you out.”

I keep shouting. There has to be someone here. Some traveler, someone. We can’t be that deep in the woods. But I don’t know how long I was running before I got out of the confusion.

The man sighs. “Suit yourself.”

He motions with his hand, and then everything goes black.


	19. Hang In There

I wake up with a groan. If I thought my head hurt before, it’s nothing compared to right now. I guess the Machamp must have given me a concussion when he whacked me over the head. I’m feeling kind of dizzy. Two brain injuries in one day. Fantastic.

Fighting to make myself concentrate, I yank hard at the rope tying my wrists to the armrests of the wooden chair I’m sitting in. I pull and twist with all my strength, but I can’t budge an inch. I keep trying anyway. Anything’s better than giving up.

At least I seem to be ok. For now. Nothing hurts other than my head and my wrists, and I don’t see any sign of minor injuries or rough treatment. My hat’s gone. I try to remember whether I was wearing it before the Rocket grunt showed up. No good. I was too confused. It might have blown off anywhere. I don’t see my messenger bag anywhere, either. Not a big surprise.

But I’m still wearing my pokéball belt. Why would they let me keep it? Just to see my tortured expression when I realize that, even with help right there, I’m completely powerless to reach it? If I could just raise my waist up to my fingertips, just far enough to engage the fingerprint scanners before I push the pokéball out of its little pocket… But these Rockets thought of everything. There’s another rope at my waist that keeps me tied to the back of the chair.

I look around. Featureless gray concrete walls. A single bare light bulb with a string hanging down. And a single metal door, pretty heavy duty. I wonder if I can smash the chair against it. Wood on metal. I could break one of the arms off.

The door opens. It’s a different man this time, one I’ve never seen before.

“Drink this,” he says, holding out a glass of green liquid with the consistency of a really disgusting smoothie.

No way. I glare at him. “How can I unless you untie my—“

And then I nearly choke as he starts pouring it straight into my mouth. I spit and splutter, but some of it goes down. It’s bitter, so bitter I can’t stand it, even after the glass is empty and all I have is the aftertaste.

I gasp in a breath, and then I spit green saliva on Rocket boy’s boots. He looks as though he expected that.

“I hate this job,” he mutters. He walks to the door, and someone on the other side opens it for him. There’s no window anywhere. How did they know? Oh, great. There must be cameras in here. Teeny tiny Pokéworld cameras so you can’t even see yourself being watched.

I gag. What was in that green stuff? That horrible taste. I can’t get rid of it. Wait, what happened to my headache? The dizziness stops. My sense of direction comes back to me in a surge. I’m facing northeast. I’m south of where I was when I last had my bearings. South by quite a ways. I can almost tell exactly how much, but that won't be any help to me unless I can find a way out of this room and then out of this... I suppose it must be a base? Team Rocket is notorious for building secret bases.

But why did they bring me here? And why give me medicine to clear up the concussion? Unless they need me to be thinking clearly.

The door swings open once again.

“Feeling better?” The man from the woods saunters in and appraises me coolly.

“Where am I?” I demand. As if I don’t know.

The man smiles. “Where no one is ever going to find you. Now I’m here to tell you to quit your struggling.”

He points to my wrists, which are red and sore from rubbing against the rope.

“You keep that up and you are going to tear up your skin, and the boss is not going to be happy about that. He ordered you in good condition, and that’s what he’s going to get. You can consider yourself lucky.”

I look straight at my captor and yank both my wrists hard. Just to make the point. “What does Giovanni want me for?”

Surprise flashes across his face, followed quickly by suspicion. “How do you know the boss?”

I say nothing.

The man steps closer. “I said, how do you know the boss?”

I spit in his face.

He reels back, cursing, and raises a hand like he’s going to slap me.

“Go on. Do it.”

He curses again, lowering the hand with what appears to be physical difficulty. Spit drips off his nose. “You are going to regret that. As soon as the boss is done with you, you think you’re going to be safe? It’s just business to him. He doesn’t care what happens to the leftovers.”

***

I sit in the room for what feels like hours, wondering what the leader of Team Rocket plans to do with me, questioning how much longer I have before he gets here, trying to come up with a way out of this. The chair is bolted to the floor. So much for smashing it. My wrists are raw and bleeding, the rope still just as tight.

Where are Elliot and Mary Ann right now? Can I even hope they’re out looking for me after the way I left? After the things I said? The last message I sent them was an apology. “I’m sorry” and then hours of silence. I didn’t come back. How would they interpret that? “I’m sorry; I’m just too upset to talk right now”? “I’m sorry, but I need my space”? “I’m sorry that I won't be coming back”? What if they decided to just let me go? After all of that, they probably don’t think I’m even worth it.

I grit my teeth. I can’t let the Rockets see me crying through their little spy cameras. Never. I will find a way out of this.

I’ve been through this before. Not this, specifically, being kidnapped and held prisoner, but getting ditched by people, people that I cared about, even people that I loved, I’ve been through that so many times that I should be the expert. I should have seen this coming, and actually I did. I knew my friendship with Elliot would fall apart someday. Friendships always do. Because, when it comes right down to it, who would really want to be friends with me?

It hurts now, but I’ve been through worse before. I’ve been through it and come out alive, and now I’m stronger for it. I am strong and independent and I refuse to let these Rockets break me down. I don’t need anyone but myself. I don’t need Dr. Clark or Mary Ann or Elliot or…

I sniffle. No, stop. No. Not tears. I will not cry.

My right arm jerks against the restraint, longing to wipe away the moisture. I throw my head down to hide my face behind my hair. As the tears stream down, my shoulders shake with shame.

And that is when I hear the door.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

I feel his fingers on my face, pulling back my hair. My stomach lurches. I flinch back, but he grabs hold of my chin, tilting my head up. His left hand sweeps my hair behind my ears.

“So this is the girl with the Chikorita,” he says, examining my face. His grip tightens as I try to pull away. He holds me there, tears running down my cheeks, until he seems satisfied with his cold analysis. He lets me go.

I grit my teeth, forcing back the tears, boiling up my anger. I hate this man with his slicked back hair and his fancy business suit, this disgusting villain who has no right to touch me.

“What is your name?” he asks.

“Go to hell.”

“Ah, good. I see you are regaining your spirit. You may cooperate or not as you wish, but it will be better for you if you begin answering my questions.”

“Are you threatening to torture me?” I ask coldly.

“Of course not,” Giovanni answers. “Torture has never been an effective means of gathering information. We could make you talk, but what you say would be entirely unreliable. No, I have no interest in such tactics. Consider this a friendly conversation.”

“A friendly conversation where I’m tied up.”

“Such measures are unfortunately necessary. You were given the option to come quietly. All of this might have been avoided if you had.”

Yeah, right. Like they would really have been stupid enough to trust me wandering freely around their base.

“Now then, your name. I like to know who I am addressing.”

“I’m not telling you a thing.”

“I find it interesting how closely you keep the secret of your identity,” Giovanni says. “Our agents have been able to gather a large volume of information about you, but this piece is always missing. Would you care to tell me why that is?”

I say nothing.

“Then perhaps you can tell me about this friend of yours, Derrick.”

“Derrick is not my friend.” I say it knowing only an idiot would think that. Giovanni knows perfectly well that our feud ruined his plans for the Team Rocket takeover of Silph Co. And he probably knows quite a bit about Derrick, too. He was working for Team Rocket, or at least with them somehow. Derrick might have even told the Rockets about me when he was recruited. So why is he playing games with me?

“Good," Giovanni approves. "Now you are being honest with me. So Derrick is not your friend. What do you have against him?”

“None of your business.”

“Now, really. What do you expect me to do with such information? I hardly think that it will help me steal more Pokémon.”

“Why do you care, then?”

“I am curious to know the young lady who has begun to make such a name for herself. You must know that your work has been impressive,” he says.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I counter.

“Yes, I can see that clearly.” He pauses to look down at his watch. “Unfortunately, I am a very busy man. I will be back in one hour to see if you have changed your mind. In the meantime, Agent Devlin will see that you are taken care of. We are not so inhumane as to deny you the ability to satisfy your basic needs.”

He turns his back and begins walking to the door. My tense muscles finally relax. Basic needs. Does that mean food? Water? Are they finally going to let me out of this chair?

Giovanni stops just before the door. Smoothly, as if he meant to do this all along.

“Ah, yes.” He turns around. “I had almost forgotten. I will be needing that.”

He takes slow steps back to my chair. Closer, closer, passing the point at which he’d stood while speaking to me. He reaches a hand out to the buckle of my pokéball belt.

I jerk wildly, extending the full range of motion I can manage tied to a chair with five separate ropes.

“Don’t touch me!”

He slides the end of the belt through the buckle. The expression on his face is unconcerned, his eyes focused on the pokéballs. I pull back my lips and lunge at his arm, trying to bite him, but he pulls away. He uses a hand to clamp my mouth shut, betraying a flash of annoyance. The belt slips through the last loop on my skirt, and he pulls back.

“Please don't take them,” I choke through a fresh stream of tears.

"Such lovely Pokémon," Giovanni says. He strokes a finger across the surface of Chica’s pokéball almost lovingly.

The door closes behind him.


	20. Modern Art

Agent Devlin turned out to be a girl about my age with dark brown hair and green eyes accented with eye shadow. She didn't say a word to me after she cut me loose, although I guess that was well deserved since I tried to punch her in the stomach and make a run for it.

She has a Wobbuffet named Clara. It's a big blue Pokémon from Johto that looks... well, it just looks weird. It's one of those where you can't tell where it's head stops and its body begins, and its ... feet? Well, you can't even really call them that. They're more like round little nubs that keep it from tipping over. The thing about Wobbuffet, though, is that it's crazy good at defensive attacks, the kind where you hit first and you get double the damage that you caused. And it's psychic. Bottom line, it does a mean Counter, and I've got the bruises to prove it.

Not that it would have done me any good if I had succeeded. I could see that as soon as I stepped out into the hall. More concrete, more featureless metal doors, no signs, no windows. I couldn't tell which way was out. A passing grunt informed me that all the doors were locked. Only Team Rocket can get through. It seemed true enough. Agent Devlin had to open every door she led me through and physically stand inside it until I was through. They snap shut as soon as she steps out of the way. I've tried everything I can think of on the door to my new cell, but the stupid thing won't budge.

Perhaps you can tell that I'm a little angry right now. Yeah, angry's a step up from being scared, so I'm going to hold on to this for a while. I don't know if Giovanni gave up or if he knew all along that I wasn't going to cooperate, but our second conversation was just as weird and pointless as the first. He wants to know how I figured out Team Rocket's plans for Silph Co., that much is obvious. But he didn't even seem all that concerned when I refused to tell him. He kept trying to play mind games, but eventually I figured out that he needs me for something, and that something has to do with Elliot.

Pacing the tiny room they assigned to me, I finger the bandages on my wrists and wonder for the thousandth time why they called Elliot in the first place. I'd finally started to fall asleep that very first night after hours upon hours of being too scared and emotional to even think about closing my eyes when the guy who kidnapped me barged into my cell and dragged me out of bed.

Agent Devlin was walking down the hallway towards us. "I thought I was on guard duty this morning."

"Change of plans," he replied curtly.

She shrugged and went back to sipping her coffee, waving her hand at Clara to follow us.

"If I didn't know that Wobbuffet would jump in to block it, I would punch you in the face, you filthy piece of trash," I raged, pulling with all my might in the opposite direction of wherever he was trying to drag me.

He grunted. As a response or simply from the effort of pulling me, I couldn't tell. It took the help of two more grunts to get me right back to where I started. They stood guard over me with the Wobbuffet until Mr. Kidnapper returned and shoved a cell phone into my hands. My cell phone.

"Make it quick," he said.

I looked down at the tiny video screen. "Elliot?"

The familiar face was framed by a background of trees. His hair was messy, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his expression was both tired and sad.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"No," I said. "No, I'm not ok."

My voice came out wobbly. Were he and Mary Ann really out looking for me all night?

"You told me she wasn't hurt," Elliot snapped, his eyes shifting to the right.

Kidnapper snatched the cell phone out of my hands, keeping the camera pointed at me as he swept it up and down. "You see any cuts or bruises, kid?" He pointed the camera at my bloody wrists. "That she did to herself with all her pointless struggling, even after I told her to cut it out." He put the phone back into my hands. "Tell him."

"He knocked me out and dragged me here," I said. "It's some kind of secret-"

Kidnapper clamped a hand over my mouth. "That's enough," he growled.

"You do anything to hurt her, and the deal is off," Elliot cried, and that was the last I heard from him. After that, they started shooting videos. Once a day, me holding a copy of the latest newspaper, and if I said anything that went off of the script, they made me do it all over again.

Nothing about me in the papers, well, not about my disappearance anyway. They were going wild over everything that was happening after Silph Co. Lavender Town jail filled to well over capacity. Officers struggling just to process all the criminals involved. Derrick refusing to talk. And the mystery girl responsible for all of this remaining as mysterious as ever. When will she come to Lavender Town to give her statement?

But the best piece of news didn't come from a paper. Midway through day number two, Kidnapper stormed into my cell with a Mightyena in tow, demanding to know what I had done to my pokéballs. Reading between the lines of his outburst, I learned that Team Rocket's best pokéball reprogrammers had tried and failed to disable the fingerprint locks on all four. They'd never seen anything like it before.

I started laughing. Chica, Unicorn, Serendipity, and Chance all totally useless to them. They can't bring them out of their pokéballs without using my hands to do it. Yeah, I would like to see them be so stupid.

Kidnapper came within inches of taking a slap at me. The wolf like Mightyena beside him growled as if it would like to turn me into a chew toy. But something made them stop just short.

What kind of deal was it that Elliot made with Team Rocket? What could they want from him that's so important that they're actually doing what he asked? And where has he been for six whole days?

I continue pacing around my cell until the door swings open for Agent Devlin, followed closely by Clara.

"What have you been up to this time?" she demands as she marches up to me.

"Oh, I don't know, a little creative decorating?" I sweep my arm Vanna White style over the "decoration" that I spent all night chiseling into the concrete wall. "I call it Large Circle."

Agent Devlin snorts. "I call it Failed Escape Attempt Number 5. What did you expect to do, idiot? Carve out a hole through, like, a foot of concrete? What were you using, anyway, some kind of nail? Which one of these numbskulls let you get a hold of that?"

"I have my sources."

"Yeah, well you'd better hand it over by the end of my shift, that's all I'm going to say." Agent Devlin scrapes a chair across the floor and takes up her usual position, as close to the door as possible.

"You don't seem concerned," I say. "What is there, just another room behind that wall?"

She smiles and leans back in her chair. "Nope."

"So I could have made it out. If I had chiseled all the way through."

"You keep telling yourself that."

I frown. Obviously there's something she's not telling me. I've noticed that, while she may not be particularly helpful, Agent Devlin never says things just to mess with me.

"How much longer do you Rockets plan on keeping me here?" I ask.

"Oh, indefinitely," Agent Devlin answers lazily.

"Well, that's stupid."

"I know, right? Unfortunately, I don't get to make the decisions around here. That's up to Mr. Bossy. You know the boss promoted him for capturing you? One lucky break and he gets charge of the entire base. I'm the one who knows how to run things around here. I've got the most experience, the coolest head, but, no, the boss won't even put me in charge of a measly fifteen people."

"Fifteen?" I ask.

She frowns. "I probably wasn't supposed to tell you that, but I really don't think it matters. You're never gonna leave this place."

"No, I mean yesterday you said that there were twenty."

"Twenty?" she raises an eyebrow at me. "We couldn't even fit twenty people in this place. Hey, what's with the look? You know something you're not telling me?"

"I know lots of things that I'm not telling you," I shoot back.

"Touché. You know that really doesn't matter either, though, right? The boss thinks you're a neat little puzzle, but, whether you tell us stuff or not, it's not going to make any difference for you."

"Maybe I'm not just thinking about myself."

"Who you thinking about, then, your boyfriend?"

I open my mouth to protest.

"Yeah, yeah, he's not your boyfriend." She rolls her eyes. "Don't even care. You know he's not coming for you, right? The boss thinks he would've been stupid enough to try, but you couldn't break into this place if you had a whole army of Digletts. And, anyway, that was before he made the deal. He can't even sneeze without one of our agents knowing about it now. If he even tries to step out of line, you've got yourself a brand new cell mate."

I narrow my eyes and take a few steps forward. Clara edges closer to her trainer, ready to jump in if necessary.

"What exactly," I ask, "is this deal?"

Agent Devlin tilts her chair back onto even footing with the ground and smiles wide, like she can't believe she's lucky enough to be the one to tell me. "You don't know?"

***

I wake up not knowing what time it is and not having any way to tell. My cell is dark, but with the light turned off and no windows, you would expect it to be. I always knew that I could wake myself up right around sunrise every morning without needing an alarm clock, but this is the first time I've ever tried to wake myself up after exactly four hours of sleep. I can only hope I was successful.

I don't hear anything out in the hallway, but a bit of light is filtering through underneath the door. Since I'm hoping everyone in the base is sound asleep, someone must be out patrolling.

I bet you're wondering what the plan is here. Agent Devlin did indeed confiscate the nail I'd been using to drill into the wall, but getting out that way had never actually been part of the plan. I did it for the company. I figured out pretty quickly that they'd only send people like Agent Devlin in to watch me if they couldn't figure out any other way to keep me from causing trouble. And Agent Devlin can be a good source of information when she's bored.

You see, six days locked in a cell gives you a long time to think, and not just about escape plans, either. I've had a long time to think about everything that's happened since Elliot and I went back to Cerulean City and especially about the last conversation I had with Mary Ann and Elliot.

I told them that I'm not a hero, and, if they weren't convinced by the lack of significant information in the memory I shared with them, I was certain that they would be by what happened afterwards. I told them there is nothing special about me, and I was right. Except for one thing that I overlooked.

All the signs have pointed to it, and I've been ignoring them or pushing them aside. The way Team Rocket can't reprogram my pokéballs. My ability to always know which way is north or run across the top of fences or sprint farther and faster than anyone else without getting tired, things I couldn't do back in the real world. The fact that Derrick is becoming more and more like a stock rival character every time we meet and that he remains obsessed with battling me exclusively. Day one: blue tank top, red skirt, white hat, bright yellow messenger bag. I am not a hero, but whatever it is that is controlling this world thinks that I am.

Worst choice it could have made, but, then again, this is the same entity that is disappearing things left and right and making a huge mess out of everything. If it's not deliberately setting out to destroy everything, I imagine that it can't actually be that smart.

But it is predictable. We caught onto its pattern a long time ago: getting rid of everything that's not in the video games and transforming anything that's not like them enough. It's gotten rid of jails and "extra" characters. It's brought Team Rocket into existence. And now it's shrinking away this secret base because it isn't actually supposed to exist after all. Step by step, not everything at once, but I know exactly what it's working towards. I know it like the back of my hand because I spent hours on end playing it, even sneaking a quick battle in before the start of my waitressing shifts, long after I'd claimed to have stopped playing it.

I know this game, and I know that the game would never leave the hero stranded without any option for escape. It's about time I took advantage of that.

So let's play the hero. You're stuck in a tiny little room? You walk over every inch of it and just keep pressing "A". Something hidden will present itself. Maybe an object someone conveniently dropped, a button hidden behind a suspicious-looking poster... my foot bumps into something that definitely wasn't there before.

I kneel down, brushing my hands over its surface in the darkness. It's a tall cylinder, not unlike a trashcan. My brain pulls up images of Lt. Surge's gym and the S.S. Anne, like perfect screenshots. I reach inside and pull out the hidden object. It feels like some sort of cloth.

I get up and walk over to the door, then crouch down again to hold it up against the tiny sliver of light. It's a set of clothes, completely black except for a single bright red "R".

Conscious of the guard who might be walking by, I hold back the gasp. Suddenly, it all makes sense. It's going to be tricky, but I know how I'm going to get out of here.


	21. Break

I sit on the floor of my cell, staring at the tiny sliver of light filtering under the door. It feels good to be wearing clean clothes again, but I don’t know how Team Rocket girls can stand wearing uniforms that are so tight. I guess it’s actually a good thing that the skirt is also ridiculously short or I don’t know how I would be able to walk. Well, that’s what you get for taking fashion design from video games. Yet another thing to hate about this gradual process of world destruction.

I stare at the light, sitting in the most comfortable position I can manage in thigh high boots, until, finally, I hear the quiet footsteps. I hold my breath, watching the shadows of the guard’s feet pass through my light sliver. I start a silent count, calling to mind the number of steps until the turn at the end of the hallway. Only when I’m sure that he must have made it there do I stand, pull the skirt back down, and step into the area of the door’s sensor sweep.

Motion activated, as I’ve observed, but only opening for members of Team Rocket. My earlier guess had been facial recognition, but I was wrong. It scans for the uniform. The door slides open.

I step out into the now familiar hallway, whipping my head left and right. Empty. I walk away from the cell as quickly as I can, tilting my head down so that the small brim of the hat will hide at least my eyes. If they don’t look too closely at my face, maybe I can sneak past them.

I know which room my pokéballs are being stored in. Mr. Kidnapper/Boss of the Base insisted that the reprogrammers keep trying to hack them, and reprogrammers aren’t hard to spot. They’re always talking technical while everyone else is bragging about their Pokémon. Follow the techno-jargon to the lab. I could only follow with my eyes, of course, but I took careful note of its location.

I just have to get there without being spotted. Every clunk that the boots make as they hit the ground seems amplified. I force myself to go slowly. Each step is an ordeal. Someone must have heard that, I think over and over again. The guard must be coming back. My fear only builds as the silence stretches on, coming to a peak when I finally stand outside the room I'm looking for. If someone is inside... But I have to take the risk. I step forward into the sensors.

The door slides open. Inside, it’s pitch black. No one here, unless they're hiding in the dark. Trying to ignore that thought, I step in far enough for the door to close behind me and fumble for a light switch. No good. I cast my hands around in the dark instead and hit what feels like a table. I slide off one of the long gray gloves and sweep my bare hand across the surface: metal, some kind of tool maybe, a coil of wires, a post it note, thick cloth. I grab on to my pokéball belt and pass my hand over the slots to find one, two, only three pokéballs secured. The second slot is empty. Where is Unicorn?

I bring my hand back down the table, starting at the opposite end this time. I hit a lamp. Switched on, it sheds light on a single pokéball, open. The inner machinery is exposed. A pair of wire cutters lay next to it. But a light still pulses from within: Unicorn in his energy state.

I slide the glove back on and pick up the pokéball, cradling one half in each hand. I don’t know if it’s safe to close it, but I need my hands and I have no other way to store it. I can only hope Nurse Joy can undo any damage that might have been done. I ease the two halves together, and they click easily. I transfer all four pokéballs from my old belt to the new one that comes standard with the Rocket uniform and switch off the lamp. Time to get out of here. But first I wait for the guard to make his second lap. A wait that seems agonizingly long, and, at the same time, much too short once I hear him in the hallway once more. I let my hand rest on the pokéballs in my belt, assuring myself of their protection.

This next part of the plan is thanks to Agent Devlin. I never could figure out where the door was to the outside. That’s because there isn’t one, at least not at ground level. I walk to the very end of the hallway and look straight up. Hello, trapdoor.

Agent Devlin said that Elliot couldn’t break in here with an army of Digletts. What would you do with a bunch of little brown tunnellers unless the secret base you were targeting was underground?

The door swings open, and I catch the ladder that telescopes out before it can crash into the ground and alert the guard. I don’t breathe easily until I’ve safely closed it behind me once more.

I’m in a forest. Moonlight passes through the canopy of branches overhead, just enough to see where I’m going. I hear my breath come out like a gasp and moisture springing to my eyes. I am free.

Now it’s time to run. I slip out of the Team Rocket boots and lace back up the familiar tennis shoes I'd tied on to the heavy gray belt. I'm going to need to go fast. South, then south west, hugging the coastline until I get to Fuchsia City. I can almost feel its coordinates etched into my compass-like brain. I thought I would never want to go back there. Now, it feels like I’m running home. I take off like a shot.

“Hey, where’s the fire?” someone shouts. A dark form swings down from the branches of a nearby tree. “Something happening at the base? Hey! Wait!”

I change course, swerving around him. I can outrun him, I’m sure of it, but my heart pounds. I strip off the gloves and throw them behind me.

“Is that you, Devlin? Have you gone mad?”

Something’s catching up to me. I hear the sound of paws pounding into the earth. I grab a pokéball in each hand and toss them to the ground. Chica and Chance. I can only hope the pokéballs will still release them. I can’t slow down.

There’s a flash of light, followed by a yelp.

“Hey, that’s…” the lookout trails off. Then he starts screaming. “Prisoner escape! Prisoner es—“

The sound cuts off. Chance bounds up to my left. A few seconds later, it’s Chica on my right. They babble at me nonstop in poke-speak, “chikari”s clashing with “jolt”s so fast my brain can’t even pull any of it apart.

“Ka!” Chica shouts in agitation.

“I’m ok. We need to run.”

Chance growls, but I won’t say any more.

We run.

***

I double over, gasping. “I… don’t know how much farther I can go. Chance, you have to leave now.”

“Olt,” he says angrily, circling back to my side. He sits down hard on the leaf encrusted ground and tilts his head up defiantly.

I glance over my shoulder nervously. “Come on, guys. We agreed on this. It’s the only way.” I suck in another difficult breath. “I’m never going to make it there in time.”

“Jol,” Chance replies. He puffs up his fur to the crackling point and sets off a spark.

“You want to stay here and protect me. I get that.” I sigh. I knew I should have waited to tell them what happened to me, but I think Chica would have murdered me.

“Ka,” Chica says, agreeing with Chance’s statement with an emphatic nod.

I know that arguing with her would be a hopeless cause. She’s too attached to me to listen to reason.

Chance’s head whips around. Instantly, Chica leaps behind me with a growl. My heartbeat quickens as I turn and scan the trees. Chance’s fur falls flat. False alarm. Still, I feel safer walking again. I step forward, and both Pokémon follow, matching my pace stride for stride but no faster.

“Elliot is in danger,” I remind them. “More danger than he realizes.”

“On,” Chance says, giving the syllable a tone indicating a suspicious question.

“If I tell you everything I know about it, will you agree to go?” I ask, ducking under a low hanging branch.

He looks at me and tightens his lips.

I sigh again. “Look, I know Agent Devlin doesn’t seem like the most reliable source, being a member of Team Rocket, but what she told me is the only thing that makes any sense. They used my phone to call Elliot soon after they kidnapped me. Why would they do that unless they wanted something from him from the start? And it just fits together way too neatly with Derrick being arrested. We know he was working with Team Rocket. Sure, he was there at the Silph Co. building, but if Team Rocket only wanted to use him for missions like that, they would have put him into a uniform like everyone else.”

Chance looks at me steadily, still unconvinced.

“He was working for them undercover,” I emphasize. “And when he wasn’t trying to wage pointless battles with me, he was challenging gym leaders. Is it so hard to believe that his actual mission was to gain enough badges to penetrate the Indigo League? The strongest Pokémon and the most powerful people in the entire region all gathered together in one place. That’s a treasure trove for Team Rocket. And having a man on the inside, there’s no telling what they could manage to do.”

“Eeee-e-o-ta?” Chica asks, apparently with great difficulty.

“What was that?” I ask, guessing that she’s trying to get me to understand something more than usual.

Chica fires off a quick succession of Pokétalk to Chance.

“Ee,” she says.

“Olllll,” adds Chance.

“Ee. O. Ta!”

I frown in confusion. “Eolliota? Oh, Elliot! You’re asking what that has to do with Elliot. Well, the problem is that I got Derrick arrested. Even if they busted him out, his cover is completely blown. So they needed a replacement. Someone they could easily control, which is where I come in. And, let’s face it, they were probably out to get me anyway. Two birds, one stone.”

“Ah,” Chica says, nodding.

Chance still looks unconvinced.

“But, apparently, the deal didn’t go as smoothly as they had planned. According to Devlin, Elliot just shouted at them, told them he wasn’t making any deals with dirty villains, and threatened a giant rescue effort that I doubt he could have actually delivered on. Although he probably thought he could pull it off.”

“Jolt!” Chance exclaims.

“Yeah. Well, what else could you expect from Elliot? They probably would have started making plans to kill him right then if not for two things. The first was that he called back to say that he’d reconsidered, but, according to Devlin, they saw him as basically a loose cannon by that point. The real thing that saved him, and me by extension, was that he dropped the name of Giovanni.”

My breathing starts to get heavy again as we begin climbing up a steep hill. I stop talking in favor of watching my step. Even so, I almost stumble as my foot slips off the too-smooth surface of a rock. Chica meets this with a look of concern and pulls away from my side for the first time in hours in favor of charting a safe path for me to follow. It’s a precaution that really isn’t necessary, but I know it makes her feel better to think that she is doing something to protect me. I think she feels like she somehow failed me, even though she was trapped inside her pokéball for the entire incident and couldn’t help being there in the first place. She seems determined to make sure that she never slips up again, which is why she’s trying doubly hard to do anything she can to keep me safe.

We reach the top of the hill at last, and I look out as far as I can in all directions. Even with the darkness and the trees blocking out the full view of the ground, I should be able to see anyone coming from a good ways off, assuming they would have a flashlight or something to search for me with. I don’t see anyone or anything. Not even a Noctowl. It seems odd to me that we haven’t encountered a single wild Pokémon since I escaped, but I’m not going to look a gift Ponyta in the mouth.

“This looks like a good place for a rest,” I say. My muscles ache as I lower myself to the ground. I really wish I had some water right now. I swallow, trying to get rid of the dryness in my mouth.

Chance lays down on the ground at my side, but Chica remains standing, staring out into the darkness with sweeping motions of her head.

“Jolt?” Chance asks me.

“Oh, right, where was I? Giovanni. No one is supposed to know that Giovanni is the leader of Team Rocket. To the ordinary world, he’s the gym leader of Viridian City, not a criminal mastermind, and I imagine he’s worked very hard to keep it that way. And he cares about himself more than the entire organization he’s in charge of or any of their goals. So he ordered the guy in charge of the secret base to accept whatever deal Elliot was willing to make with them and carry out his end of it to the letter with the understanding that the deal was just a distraction to keep Elliot in line and unsuspicious. The real focus is that the agent sent to spy on Elliot track down the source of Elliot’s information about Team Rocket and anyone else who knows more than they should.”

Chance’s ears are beginning to perk up now. I think he might be starting to get it.

“But that’s only going to work as long as Elliot thinks the deal is still in place, which he won’t in about four hours when he doesn’t get the daily video telling him that I’m ok. He needs to know that I escaped and he needs someone to tip him off about the spy in case things go south. I can’t get there in time, but you can and you know it.”

Chance growls.

“I know you aren’t happy about this, but it’s the only way. You won’t be protecting me, but Elliot needs you more than I do right now. And not just Elliot. Maria, Harry, and Kyu need you, too. Maybe even Mary Ann if she’s still with him. Maria is your sister. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her, would you?”

Chance growls more loudly this time, rising to his feet.

“Good,” I say, letting out a breath of relief. “You need to run as fast as you can. I think Elliot should be in Fuchsia City by now, but if he’s not, go to the Safari Zone. The Pokémon there know me, and you should be able to find some birds that can carry the message for you.”

Chance nods resolutely. Then he turns and dashes down the opposite side of the hill as fast as his four legs will carry him.

“Wait!” I call, but he’s already too far down to hear me. So it’s in a quiet voice that I say, “Be careful.”


	22. Green as Leaves

“Faar, faar!” A series of crow-like caws force open my tired eyes. I moan, not awake enough to realize what’s happening until I roll onto my back and see the Farfetch’d swooping down.

“Ka!” Chica says joyfully.

“Kyu?” I ask, wincing at the protests of my muscles as I sit up.

The duck-like Pokémon lands on the ground next to Serendipity. “Farfetch’d,” he says with a single nod. Holding one end of his stick in each wing, he holds it out to me in a gesture like a samurai presenting someone with a sword.

“What?” I look more closely and see that there is a note wrapped tightly around the white portion of the stalk. I take the stick of wild onion and unravel the note.

It is annoyingly brief: “Where are you? Are you safe?” No explanations, no signature, but, most importantly, nothing to write with.

“Elliot, you idiot!” I rage. It feels alright to insult him again now that I know he’s safe. Safe enough to send one of his strongest Pokémon flying out into the forest to look for me. I’m willing to bet that Kyu got his directions from Chance, so something worked, but two questions doesn’t tell me anything at all.

“Far!” Kyu says sharply.

Oh, right, I just insulted his trainer. The two of them must have gotten pretty close over the course of the past week. I look up, ready to apologize, but see instead that he’s gesturing towards me with his wing. Clearly, he is demanding the return of his stick.

“Right,” I say, handing it back to him. “I will never understand how your species is so inseparable from these things. You’d think that an intelligent Pokémon would avoid something that could be used to turn him into dinner.”

Kyu turns the stick around and bops me over the head, just hard enough to make his point.

“Alright, alright. Listen, you didn’t happen to see any signs of Team Rocket from up there, did you?”

Kyu shakes his head.

“Was there anyone from Team Rocket in Fuchsia City?”

Kyu nods.

“How many?”

Kyu looks down at his wings. He holds up the one not holding the stick and raises each feather in turn like fingers counting. One, two, three… He sets down the stick and uses the other wing. Four, five six… He looks from wing to wing, dissatisfied, then lowers both and starts using the stick to draw tally marks in the dirt instead.

“Ok, so, a lot,” I say, getting the picture. “Did Elliot get away from them?”

A nod.

“Well, that’s something. We’re going to need a change of plans, though.”

Kyu shakes his head.

“No? You want me to keep going to Fuchsia City and get myself captured all over again?”

“Ar,” Kyu grumbles, probably frustrated by the communication barrier as much as I am. He uses a webbed foot to smooth out his tally marks and starts drawing in the dirt once more: an R with a big “x” through it with an arrow connecting it to a bunch of blocky things.

I frown, trying to make sense of it.

Chica fires off a round of Pokéspeak. Kyu responds, and then Chica pushes him to the side and starts drawing on the picture herself, using the thin tip of her leaf to add finer detail to the blocky shapes. Serendipity calls out something that could be either encouragement or advice. Finally, Chica steps back and points at it.

I lean forward, trying to get a better look. “I still don’t see… Oh! I get it, this is a bird’s eye view! Of course. It’s a map of Fuchsia City. Are you trying to say that there is no more Team Rocket in Fuchsia City? But you just said there was.”

“Farr,” Kyu grumbles again. Using his stick, he points to me, then to the map of the city. Back to me, back to the city, over and over again.

“Ok, ok, I get it. You want me to go to Fuchsia City. I don’t understand why, but I guess I’ll do it if you say so. Will you at least do me a favor and keep a lookout from up there? By now I’m thinking that I either lost them or they gave up looking in this part of the forest, but I would feel a lot better knowing that there’s someone coming before they actually get here.”

Kyu glares at me and points to the note.

“Well, I can’t answer this! What do you want me to write in, blood? I’m sure that will reassure him.”

Kyu glares at me again and takes off into the sky.

I look at Chica. “Does that mean he’s agreed to stay here and play lookout now, or…”

She shrugs.

Serendipity starts to say something, but before she can finish, Kyu returns with his beak grasping the strap of something blindingly yellow.

“My messenger bag!” I say, taking it from him as soon as it’s low enough for me to reach. I open it and find the remote neatly tucked away inside. “How did you get this?”

Kyu points off into the trees and says, almost gleefully, “fetch.”

I walk in the direction that he pointed with Chica at my heels. It only takes a few steps to reveal what had been just outside my line of sight: a large tree stump with a neatly folded pile of clothes on top. I set the messenger bag down on the open space beside them.

“Chica,” I say, “this is exactly how it looked the first time.”

“Ka?”

“This is how I got the clothes and the bag in the first place. I woke up in the Fuchsia City Pokémon Center, and there they were. Replace the stump for a chair, and it’s like a perfect photograph.”

Chica frowns in concentration. I wish I could ask what she’s thinking about right now.

“Well,” I say instead, “at least I can get out of this Team Rocket uniform. It’s been driving me nuts. Hey, you don’t suppose there’s any chance…?”

I flip through the messenger bag’s remote, searching for an icon of a cell phone. I flip through a bunch of basic supplies like food, Pokémon food, bottles of water, and a first aid kit and find all of the supplies I had to start with when I got to this world but none of the ones I added afterwards.

“Of course not,” I mutter.

“Faar!” Kyu crows, scooping up my hat from the top of the pile. He flaps over and drops in on top of my head, and I feel something small drop onto the top of my skull from inside it.

Kyu lands on a nearby branch. I could swear that he’s smiling even though that’s technically impossible with a beak, watching as I pull off the hat and cause the thing inside to clatter to the ground.

“Ok, I so get one new thing. A magical apparition from the big ‘something’ in charge here with apparently unlimited power to make stuff happen, and all it can give me,” I say, holding up the object, “is a pencil?”

***

Elliot’s second message was also his final one, and, again, it was infuriatingly short: “I’m coming to get you.”

Never mind the fact that I spent a good paragraph explaining where I am and the fact that I’m fine. Also never mind the half dozen questions I asked him that I would have appreciated some actual answers to. Apparently he wants to treat me like a lost child.

I saw Chance before I saw him. The Jolteon was dashing through the forest so quickly I was afraid something was chasing him at first. I really just think he was still worried about me. I thanked him for going to help Elliot and ran my hands through his thick yellow fur while he hummed a sound almost like a cat’s purr.

That was an hour ago, and it’s only now that I see and hear him crashing through the forest with his usual clumsiness. His face is covered in sweat and he looks awful, but he lights up immediately when he sees me.

“Ee!” Maria squeals happily, running over to tackle Chica playfully to the ground.

“You’re ok,” Elliot calls out with great relief.

“I wrote to you that I was.” 

He’s giving me that look again as he walks closer, the “poor little Eevee” one. He stops a short distance away and looks at me.

My legs are covered in tiny cuts from the undergrowth and I’m sure my hair must be a mess, but I’m in my normal clothes again, if this blue shirt/red skirt combo plucked straight from Fire Red/Leaf Green can rightfully be considered normal. I can’t look that bad, can I? My wrists have even healed enough that they don’t need bandages.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Because I was worried about you. What did they do to you?”

“Nothing. Except tie me up and keep me prisoner, obviously.”

“You’re sure that you’re ok?” he asks doubtfully.

I notice Chica look up sharply, her face losing all the joy she’d shown while rolling around with Maria just moments before.

“I’m getting a little annoyed,” I reply. “And the fact that nobody seems to be following me is weird.”

“Oh, there’s no one following you,” Elliot rushes to say. “No one at all. You’re safe. Everything’s ok now.”

“How can you know that?”

Elliot shifts his feet awkwardly.

“Elliot, if there’s something you’re not telling me…”

“Ok, ok. It’s just… Remember all that weird stuff that’s been going on? With the disappearances and everything?”

“Yes.”

He shifts his feet again, looking at the ground. “Well, it’s gotten a lot worse.”

“How ‘worse’?”

Elliot bites his lower lip. “I didn’t want to show you yet, but…”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. I walk closer to see what he’s doing. Chica follows automatically.

“Ka,” she says, gesturing downwards with her leaf.

Elliot blinks in surprise, but lowers himself to the ground obligingly. I sit down next to him, allowing Chica to climb into my lap, and Maria and Chance dash over as well.

“Dr. Clark and Mary Ann and I figured out that we can keep tabs on everything everywhere at once by taking pictures of every city, route, and forest in Kanto,” Elliot explains, pulling up the phone’s stored photos. “All the ones we’ve had a chance to get to anyway. Here’s a picture I got Kyu to take of Vermillion City.”

On screen, I see a bird’s eye view of a little town surrounded by blocky ocean inlets. There’s a scattering of orange-roofed buildings, one green, and a gym, Pokémon Center, and Pokémart. On the south side is a dock that stretches out and hooks at right angles until it disappears off the frame.

“That looks almost the same as the last time we saw it,” I say. “That barrier of rocks out in the water wasn’t there last time, and those trees up in the corner weren’t evergreens, but it doesn’t look so bad.”

“Remind you of anything?” Elliot asks.

“Well Fire Red/Leaf Green, of course. Almost exactly.”

Elliot flips to the next photo. “This is Route 15.”

“It seems to… change? Halfway down? Woah, that does not look good.”

The right side of the picture looks a lot like the picture of Vermillion City. I see the same kinds of evergreen trees, the same greenish grass and yellowish dirt paths, everything you would expect, but the left half has paths that look like brick and grass that’s a sickly lime color. Even the fence looks completely different, more like a row of white and gray cylinders that aren’t even connected in any way.

“It’s changing along a curve,” I realize, tracing my finger over the screen without actually touching it.

Elliot nods. “Dr. Clark figured out a while ago that it’s spreading in a circle.”

“So is that it?” I ask. “Things are still turning into the video game, but now it’s going back generations as well? Fire Red/Leaf Green was generation three, even though it’s still in Kanto. This looks like Gold and Silver. Generation Two.”

“Yeah, that’s what seems to be happening,” Elliot agrees, but there’s something off about his voice.

“Elliot? What are you hiding from me?”

“It’s… nothing, really! I was trying to show you, you can’t see Team Rocket in any of these photos, can you?”

“No, but that doesn’t prove anything.”

“Actually it does,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Because they were there when I took this one.”

“Wait, what?”

“The photos change whenever the world does. It’s this whole retroactive something or other. Dr. Clark has a special word for it. But it means that the world fixes all the records and photos and things to make it look like the world was always this way. So when something disappears, it’s not in the photo anymore, either. And Team Rocket poofed out of this photo right before the Generation Two stuff started showing up.”

“So you’re saying the world has disappeared Team Rocket?” I ask. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it hasn’t disappeared them. Well, not all of them. Just the ones that were someplace they weren’t supposed to be or… something. I don’t know, but Dr. Clark told me there’s no way there can be any of them in this part of the forest according to his calculations.”

“Ok,” I say, narrowing my eyes, “but they move.”

“Um, yeah, I know that, but Dr. Clark doesn’t think they can actually enter any of these areas, and, well, if it spreads to wherever they were keeping you…”

“The base might have disappeared already, too,” I finish. “Yeah, that actually makes a lot of sense. But you’re still hiding something.”

Elliot squirms. Chica pokes his leg harshly with a toenailed foot.

“You didn’t think I would just let you drop that, did you?”

Chica pulls back her lips and bares her teeth at him menacingly. Elliot looks alarmed.

“What is wrong with Chica?”

She opens her mouth and snaps it shut in response.

“Ok, ok. Here.” He flips to the next photo.

Fuchsia City. It’s an almost perfect match for the map Kyu and Chica drew me earlier. But it’s not the Fuchsia City I know. My Fuchsia City had brick buildings with gray tiled roofs, not white ones with pinkish roofs. My Fuchsia City had a Pokémon Center that was red and a Pokémart that was blue, not buildings that could have passed for tiny replicas of guard houses without the signs in front. My Fuchsia City didn’t have lime green grass or paths of stone and brick or trees that look more like shrubs. And most of all, my Fuchsia City didn’t have a tiny little circle around the south eastern portion, a circle surrounding one building only, a building two stories tall with a roof as gray as the shadow that it casts on the ground. The building is gray and white, and that is it. And that building is located exactly in the area of my old house. My old house the center of a tiny little circle of impending destruction.

I realize that Elliot is looking at me. Chica is looking at me. Everyone is looking at me. And I can’t deny it any more.

“This is all surrounding me, isn’t it?”


	23. Moving Forward

“Mary Ann is going to meet us once we get to Fuchsia City,” Elliot explains as we continue hiking through the woods.

“How is she?” I ask, feeling a pang of guilt as I remember the last thing I said to her.

“She’s fine. The Rockets don’t even know that she was involved, actually. She and Goran were still out in the woods searching for you the first time they called me, and later she was able to get away before they sent that agent who followed my every move. Actually, she was the one who told me I had to call them back and make a deal.” He pulls aside a tree branch and pauses to looks at me. “That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?”

“Well, it kept me safe,” I reply, “but not for the reason that you think.”

I explain to him that Giovanni wants to track down and silence anyone who knows that he’s the secret leader of Team Rocket and that he stumbled into a pretty convenient sweet spot by name dropping and threatening to go to the police.

“You didn’t tell anyone else about Giovanni, did you?” I ask.

Elliot shakes his head. “I don’t think Dr. Clark and Mary Ann even know. We only ever talked about just plain Team Rocket, and neither of them ever played the video games or anything. Do you think we should tell the police? I mean, he’s already after us now, right?”

“Are there any police left to tell?” I ask.

“Hang on.” Elliot pulls out his phone and flips through some photos again. “Ah, the police station in Lavender Town is still there.”

“Then, yeah, obviously we go to the police. Good thing it’s still there because I was already planning on paying them a visit.”

“Wait, you were?”

“I had time to plan a lot of things while I was stuck in that base, Elliot.” I catch him giving me that look again. “Would you quit giving me that face? I’m fine.”

His eyebrows pull down further. “I don’t think you are, though. You can’t be, not after all of that. And… I know it wasn’t easy for you in there. When they called me that first time…” He swallows hard. “They showed me the video.”

“What video?” I ask, getting a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Chica growls long and deep. We all stop moving.

Elliot looks down at his red sneakers. “You know, the one with you all tied up and…”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

“And crying,” he finally manages to get out.

“Rrraaah!” Chica screams. She whips her leaf around, just once, snapping back her neck at the last minute, and a Razor Leaf lodges itself two inches deep in a nearby tree trunk.

Elliot jumps backwards as a second whizzes by just inches from his leg. “Hey! Chica!”

The air fills with the acrid smell of rotting fruit as she leaps toward him with a growl. Elliot backs up, looking genuinely frightened by her sudden ferocity.

“Glay?” Maria asks from just behind us. She sounds stunned.

“Chica, stop!” I push myself into the space between her and Elliot, holding out a hand both defensively and as a warning.

Her eyes are narrowed down to slits, and she breathes out in angry snorts.

“Chica, it’s ok. I’m ok. Hold off, Maria,” I add, seeing the Glaceon tentatively advancing in a half-crouch. Behind me, I can hear Elliot shifting slightly to the side, like he’s testing whether he can get away. Chica’s eyes don’t follow him, remaining fixed on a spot somewhere near my shin.

“Did you hear me, Chica? I’m ok. You don’t have to be angry over what happened to me. I’m the one who put you back into your pokéball. It’s my fault you weren’t there to protect me, not yours. But that doesn’t matter because I’m ok.”

“Ka!” Chica whips her head to the side, but no Razor Leaves come flying out this time. She’s arguing.

“It… it wasn’t that bad. Really.” I can hear the hitch in my voice.

Chica fixes me with a cold stare.

“Alright, do you want me to say that it was terrible? It was terrible, ok? Let’s move on.” Seeing that Chica has gotten calmer, I start to take a step to the side, only to find my vision blurring.

This is ridiculous. I don’t feel sad. I force my thoughts onto the trees up ahead. Is it just me, or are they all starting to look more and more identical? All evergreens, all about the same height and shape. We must be getting closer now.

Chica runs out ahead of me, blocking my path. I try to step around her, but she copies my every move. I wish that I could just return her to her pokéball, but I lost it in the woods when we were running away from the Team Rocket sentry.

Elliot walks up slowly, and, seeing that Chica has all of her attention focused on me, takes up a stance beside her. He says, “We’re not going anywhere until you admit to how you’re really feeling.”

“I told you how I’m really feeling,” I hiss.

Chance and Maria join the group, adding their silent agreement. All four look at me stubbornly.

“Look, Mary Ann said that you were going to do exactly this. You’re blocking out your own emotions, and that’s not good for you. She couldn’t tell that was what you were doing at first, even with her powers, but she felt so bad about what happened to you that she worked and worked until she figured it out. She’s been really worried about you, you know.”

“Is she the one who told you to say all of this?”

“Well, she did give me a lot of advice, yeah. And she also told me not to let you change the subject on me. She said it would be better if you just talk to me because you know me better. You can tell me anything, and I won’t share it if you don’t want me to. I promise that I’ll listen. Why won’t you tell me what happened to you in there?”

“Because I hate it when you look at me like that!” I burst out.

To my immense relief, Elliot’s expression changes from one of sympathy to genuine surprise. “What?”

“You’ve been looking at me like that ever since I told you that stuff about my past. I knew I shouldn’t have started talking about that stuff. Why wouldn’t you just listen to me?”

“Because you were wrong,” Elliot says. “You just said so yourself. Everything is centered around you. It is important for us to try to find out why. And didn’t it make you feel even a little better to let all that out?”

“No,” I lie. “I didn’t need to talk about any of that because I am over it. Just like I am over what happened with Team Rocket. I’m perfectly fine, and I’m sick of you treating me like I’m not. I don’t need your pity, ok? So go waste it somewhere else.”

I step to the left. Elliot finally seems frozen in place. I walk around him. Chica darts up from the right.

“Wait,” Elliot tells her.

I can’t see the look she gives him, but the air doesn’t smell rotten anymore. I walk until I can hear Elliot start to say something. I’m too far away to make out the words. My heart hammers at the thought of getting too far away from the protection of my Pokémon, my mind flashing with the image of Team Rocket grunts leaping out of the foliage, but I dare not look back to make sure someone is still watching me. I feel a flood of relief as soon as I hear Chica galloping back up to my side. We lead the way in silence while Elliot murmurs to the others somewhere just beyond my hearing range.

I don’t know what he’s saying to them, but I know I need to find a way to fix this as soon as possible. I can’t let my weakness destroy everything. I will make myself be strong enough to get through this without Elliot’s help or anybody else’s. If there’s one thing that experience proved, it’s that I can’t let myself get dependent on anyone. If I need to fake it a little, then I will. I don’t care how unhealthy it’s supposed to be.

***

“Ok, lay it on me.”

Mary Ann stops walking towards us, looking startled that these are the first words out of my mouth after seeing her. Goran does exactly the opposite, walking forward to meet her from the place where he had originally been holding back.

“The memory thing,” I clarify, finally stepping out of the never ending forest and into the grassy area at north east corner of Fuchsia City. “You said that the memory I told you had a vibration thing to it and that you can help me figure out what it is. I want you to do that now. Let’s get it over with.”

Mary Ann steps to the side, looking past me and into the forest for Elliot.

“He fell a little bit behind,” I explain. “But look, I can guess what you want to say. You want to apologize, right?”

Mary Ann nods.

“And you’re probably wondering why I completely changed my mind and thinking that this isn’t the time for this. Because I’ve just been through all this stuff and ‘oh no’ and we really need to talk about it.”

This time, she doesn’t nod or shake her head. She reaches into her pocket for a notepad.

“Here’s the deal,” I say. “Memory thing first, and we’ll talk after.”

She takes out a pencil and scribbles down: “Is that a promise?”

“You’re not going to agree to this unless I do, are you?”

She shakes her head.

“Ok, fine. You can ask me, like, five questions and I’ll answer all of them, ok? But only if you do the memory thing now.”

She writes something on the notepaper just below the last sentence, more slowly this time, and holds it up for me to see: “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It won’t work unless you are.”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

She writes again. I read it quickly and then relay to Chica, “Goran’s going to hypnotize me now, but it’s fine. It’s the only way to get the memory, and it won’t hurt me at all. I want you to stay here and just watch, ok?”

Chica nods, but there’s a deep frown on her face. I can see her planting her feet into the ground with tension and anxiety as the Hypno walks forward with his circular metal pendant in hand. I fix my eyes on it, watching it swing back and forth, back and forth with a rhythm like a metronome. I don’t even realize that I’ve closed my eyes until I open them again on a sight that I hadn’t expected. It’s my old room from the foster home, before my eyes just as clearly as it was on the night before I left it.


	24. Take Two

I try to reach out a hand to touch the dresser in front of me, but it doesn’t move. I’m just an observer here, trapped inside my own skin. I feel my feet shift, turning me around to face the bed, repeating the actions that I took when I last stood here, over a year ago.

“What do you see?” a female voice asks.

My body reacts as though nothing has happened, continuing to zip up the backpack where I’ve placed all my worldly possessions. All the ones I’m taking with me. The old Pokémon video game cartridge lies separate from everything else on the backdrop of the plain white sheets.

“Mary Ann?” I ask, hearing the words come out without having my lips make a single motion.

“Yes,” she replies. “I can speak to you now. What do you see?”

“I’m in my old bedroom at the foster home,” I say. “I just finished packing up my things.”

My hands take the backpack by one strap and lower it to the floor beside the bedpost.

“I think I’m getting ready to go to sleep now.”

“Good,” Mary Ann’s voice replies. “Now what’s happening?”

“I’m picking up the game cartridge,” I report. I feel my body turn again, and my hand brings it down to the empty surface of the dresser. “I’m setting it down. I’m not going to take it with me.”

“Why not?”

“It takes up room. I can’t waste money on a new Game Boy, or, well, even a used one, really, so it’s useless now. I can’t afford to be sentimental.”

Down the hallway, I hear the sound of running water. My young foster sister and roommate is brushing her teeth. I walk over to her side of the room and plug the princess themed nightlight into the outlet next to it before turning out the lights.

“I’m getting into bed now,” I tell Mary Ann. “I’m going to pretend to be asleep so Jodie won’t bother me when she comes back. The kid gets all wound up.”

I feel the cool sheets being pulled over my body. My eyes are closed now, and I can’t see a thing. Down the hall, the water stops running.

“Story time!” Jodie sings. Her feet pad down the hall.

“Which one do you want tonight?” my foster mother asks.

They walk away together, and everything falls silent. Time passes. I feel my breathing begin to slow like I’m starting to drift off to sleep, but my observing mind is still perfectly clear.

“Nothing is happening,” I tell Mary Ann.

“Wait,” she says, “it’s getting close.”

The bedroom door creaks open. I can hear Jodie humming, but it’s not a song I recognize. Her footsteps travel about the distance to her bed, then stop. The humming starts to get louder, coming closer until she must be right in front of me, looking right at my sleeping face.

Nosy little kid.

Suddenly, the humming stops. There’s a small scraping sound, like the game cartridge being moved across the wooden surface of the dresser. The humming starts up again and recedes to her side of the room, accompanied by a surge of rustling.

I feel my body roll over, threatening to wake up, but the rustling stops. The humming is still there, but not as loud, like Jodie suddenly remembered she’s supposed to be quiet when someone else is sleeping.

I hear a tiny click, and then there’s music playing: the opening sequence to Pokémon Blue.

“The kid turned on the game,” I say to Mary Ann. “I didn’t know she had a Game Boy.”

Then the music changes. Three tinny, staccato notes. Three more all together, going up and coming down. Dun. Dun. Dun. Dun da dun. And a rattling like drums. Jodie’s humming switches to accompany.

“That song. I know that song,” I say. I barely notice that all the sounds have suddenly cut off. My mind is working, trying to remember. “I know the last time I heard that song.”

“Yes?” Mary Ann asks. “Take us back there.”

I feel a pain mounting in my head, spreading, intensifying, cutting off my focus.

“Ah!” I cry, and suddenly I’m back, holding my head in my hands and looking down at the lime green “grass” at the edge of Fuchsia City.

“What happened?” Elliot asks. “Is she ok?”

I wince and make myself look up to see that Mary Ann is signing something. “Mind translating that for me, please?” I ask.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Elliot translates. His voice sounds weird speaking Mary Ann’s words after hearing her real voice inside my head. “You told me you were ready, but you’re not. Something is blocking out the memory. It’s just like Sabrina said. You need to get rid of it.”

“How can I get rid of something I didn’t know I had?” I protest.

“Ka,” Chica says supportively.

I smile at her, feeling the headache fade away just as quickly as it arrived.

“You should learn your own mind,” Elliot replies, translating again. “Stop holding back. Especially from yourself.”

“Holding back from myself? What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, climbing to my feet.

“Well, I can think of an easy way to start,” Elliot says, speaking for himself now. “After you get some rest.”

“I don’t need rest,” I say. “I need to find out what’s going on here, and then we need to get to Lavender Town before that police station disappears.”

“No,” Elliot insists, “you’re resting. You need it after what you’ve been through.”

“I do not need…” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Goran swing his metal pendant. The song from the video game flashes through my head again like an echo. “Victory Road.”

Elliot’s eyebrows pull down. “You do not need Victory Road? Ok, now I’m concerned for your sanity.”

He steps forward as if to take my hand and drag me to some better place to rest.

“No,” I say, pushing his hand away. “You don’t understand. Victory Road. That song I heard was Victory Road. It was the last thing in the memory. I heard that song, and then… I woke up here in Fuchsia City the next day. There must be something there, I’m sure of it.”

“Something in Victory Road?” Elliot says, sounding excited. “Maybe that’s what started all this stuff! Forget Lavender Town, we’ve got to start going there!”

His eyes are getting that slightly glassy look they get when he’s imagining something awesome. He’s going to start going on and on about how cool this is if I don’t stop him now.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I ask.

“What?” he says. His eyes focus back on me.

“We can’t get to Victory Road unless one of us has all eight gym badges,” I point out. “Maybe we could talk our way around that under normal circumstances, but with all these video game changes spreading? We’ll only be able to get as far as your highest level badge.”

“Well, I have ones from Brock and Misty and Erica and Lt. Surge now.”

“You beat the electric type gym leader with a Glaceon, a Magikarp, and a Farfetch’d?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? I have a Sandslash now!” Elliot beams with pride. “She’s so neat! Her name is Alma and she’s awesome and you should see how fast she can dig! And her Magnitude attack! Wow! You have got to see it!”

“Alright, Elliot,” I say. “I get the picture. Mary Ann is trying to ask us something.”

“Whoops.” Elliot turns around and watches her for a few moments. “Oh, she wants to know how many more badges that leaves. Well, not how many, but which ones. Eight minus four is four…”

“I applaud your basic math.”

“Shut up,” Elliot says playfully. “There’s Koga, right here in Fuchsia City. There’s Sabrina. There’s Blaine from Cinnabar Island. And then there’s…” He pauses, looking at Mary Ann. “The leader of Viridian City,” he concludes evasively.

Giovanni. The eighth and final gym leader. His city stands directly at the gate to our destination. It’s good that Elliot remembered to keep that secret under wraps. No matter what I said about reporting him to the police, he is a central character in the game. I’ll let Elliot believe whatever makes him feel better, but something tells me Giovanni isn’t going down easily.

Elliot turns back to me. “You rest now, and I’ll start training. We’re definitely staying here until I win this gym badge now, and Koga’s poison types are going to be tricky.”

“Elliot,” I say with a hint of annoyance. “I am from Fuchsia City. I used to work for Koga. He will give me a badge if I just talk to him.”

Elliot frowns. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“The fun,” I say, “is in getting to where we need to go before the entire world goes black and white like that.”

I point south. The colorless void drowning out my former house has been growing, even as we sit here talking. It’s swallowed the house next to the first, plus the little pond where I caught Unicorn all those months ago. I can’t even guess at what would happen if we stepped into it, but if we don’t get out of here by the time it eats up the entire town, we are going to find out.

“Ok, ok,” Elliot says. “But Koga might not listen to you anyway. The video game stuff might’ve affected him, too, you don’t know.”

I look at him.

“C’mon,” he whines. “I wanna save the world the cool way!”

I roll my eyes.

Despite the fact that Elliot is still there, Mary Ann takes out her notepad and writes something down: “Let him go train.”

“Yes!” Elliot pumps his fist. “Thanks, Mary Ann!”

He runs off before I can say another word, with Maria dashing after him.

“You guys can come, too,” he calls back to Chance and Chica.

Chance happily prances after his sister, but Chica hesitates.

“Go on,” I say. “Goran is right here, isn’t he?”

Chica frowns, nods, then takes off after them. She shouts something to the Hypno over her shoulder. Probably instructions to watch out for me. Or a warning about what she’s going to do if he doesn’t. Knowing her latest mood, it’s probably more like the second.

“Still making decisions by vote, huh?” I ask sourly, referring to the fact that Elliot left by her go-ahead.

She looks at me with a smile, then writes, “You still owe me the answers to five questions.”

I groan. “Fine.”

She writes again. “But first, Goran has something that he’d like to say.”

She shoots a pointed look at her Hypno. He shuffles forward grudgingly on his square feet. I can see his large nostrils flare as he lets out a long breath. He sets his pendant gently on the grass, then raises his right hand, pulls it into a fist with his thumb on top, and turns it in a clockwise circle over his chest. Twice.

I gape at him open mouthed. It’s only when Mary Ann taps me on the arm that I realize she’s written something: “That’s ASL for ‘I’m sorry’.”

Goran is looking at the ground with his pointed ears drooping slightly down. He’s sorry for casting the Confusion attack on me, probably taking on the blame for the fact that I ran off into the woods on my own after we humans had our fight. I should probably accept the apology or something, but…

“You can talk?” I blurt out.

“Hypno,” Goran says, looking up with irritation.

“Right, of course you can talk, but I mean, you can do ASL? You’ve been able to use sign language all along and you’re just now showing us? What gives, dude?”

Goran’s ears pull back slightly, but he stays silent while Mary Ann takes up her pencil once again.

“Goran is naturally very quiet,” she writes. “He’s been feeling guilty for a week, but would he have said anything just now unless I made him? Nooo.”

“Well, come on, Goran! I’m more annoyed about that than about your stupid Confusion attack. I mean, it really did a number on my head. Good job on that, actually, it’s quite a powerful attack. But you only got mad at me because I hurt Mary Ann. Chica would have done the same for me, I’m sure. Anyway, it’s not like it was the only thing that made the difference. Even though I was confused, I could’ve been a little smarter about it. I didn’t have to run away like that.”

The Hypno perks up a little at this. His ears straighten, and his eyes relax into a rounder shape.

“But this! Goran, do you have any idea how cool this is? You’re the only Pokémon I’ve ever met that can actually communicate with humans. The only one I’ve ever heard of. Well, except for Team Rocket’s Meowth, I suppose, but everyone knows that could never really happen.”

“No?” Goran asks.

“Not important. The point is, this is really special. You can’t just keep it to yourself like that.”

Goran signs something to Mary Ann, who writes, “He didn’t see the point. Other than Elliot, I’m the only one who understands sign language, and, between the two of us, it’s just unnecessary. We have our psychic link.”

“So why did he sign that just now, then?” I ask.

She writes the answer rapidly: “To prove he can.”

Then Mary Ann’s expression changes. I wonder whether Goran has just sent her some kind of mental message or whether she’s simply thought of something, but her smile fades. Transferring her pencil to her other hand, she makes a fist and copies Goran’s clockwise motions.

She picks up the pencil again and writes, “I’m sorry, too.”

I groan. “You don’t have to be. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Mary Ann looks at me curiously. “Why?”

“Does that count as your first question?” I ask.

“Have we started?” She holds up the sentence for just a second before pulling it back and writing something underneath it with an arrow pointing up. “And that question doesn’t count.”

“So I don’t have to answer it, then,” I say.

Mary Ann’s only reaction is a facial expression somewhere between concerned and thoughtful.

“Fine,” I sigh. “We’ve started.”

I take a seat on the sickly looking grass once more. Drawing it out as long as possible, I wait until Mary Ann and Goran are completely settled on the ground as well before I force myself to ask, “What do you want to know about?”

As Mary Ann rests the pencil's eraser on her chin thoughtfully, all I can think is how badly I need to get it right this time.


	25. Cheaters

"Koga, come on," I plead. "Don't you remember me at all? I quit working here less than a month ago."

 

The gym leader regards me suspiciously, framed by the sliding glass doors he is currently refusing to let me pass through. "I don't even know your name."

 

"Of course you don't. I don't have one."

 

Koga arches an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And you think that I would hire a girl without a name? Nice try."

 

I take a step back. Did I really just tell Koga that I don't have a name?

 

"Ah! You see? Regretting your silly little scheme, aren't you? Cheaters never prosper."

 

With a dramatic swish of his scarlet cape, Koga reenters his gym. The doors slide shut behind him.

 

Mary Ann taps my shoulder. The words "what's wrong?" are written in her rapidly diminishing notepad.

 

My first instinct is to blow it off, but the conversation we just had is too fresh in my mind. Five questions. Mary Ann could have asked me anything in the world. I wasn't clear when setting up the terms, but I would never have tricked her into helping with the memory by stooping to a false pretense. My meaning had been clear, even though I hadn't laid it out exactly at the time we made the agreement. I promised her total honesty.

 

I would have felt obligated to tell her my greatest secret, although I would have hated her for asking for it. She could have used the power I had given her to hurt me in so many different ways, but, instead, after what had seemed to me an eternity of thoughtful pencil tapping, her question had been so simple.

 

"1. Do you trust me?"

 

Standing now before what remains of the Fuchsia City gym that I once knew so well, I realize that the best answer I have is that I trust her enough for this.

 

"I never told Koga that I don't have a name," I tell her. "I spent almost a year refereeing gym challenges and helping to balance all the paperwork and having casual conversations when the work was slow, and I never slipped a single time. It was so important to keep it hidden, and then, just now, I said it without even thinking."

 

"That's a good sign," Mary Ann writes. "It means that you're starting to heal."

 

I look at her strangely. "I don't need to heal."

 

"Do you really not see it?"

 

She's not looking for an actual answer to that, I'm sure. She's just trying to make me think about it. Just like she made me think about the answer to that first question out of five. Do I trust her? We sat in silence for so long that we came to an agreement. I could take as much time as I needed to find the answer to this question and she could ask the remaining four at whatever times she wanted. Even now, they're hanging over my head like an anvil waiting to drop. I never should have agreed to this.

 

I turn away from the gym. "No point in going in there now. Koga will just kick us out again. Maybe if we come back later his daughter Janine will be running things? Not that she'll be likely to help us, either, but I do wonder why she isn't the leader now."

 

"Why would she be?" Mary Ann writes.

 

I look around. I don't see anyone, but still, now would be a really terrible time to get tossed in the insane asylum. I point to the notepad. "Can I borrow that?"

 

Mary Ann looks confused, but she makes the sign for "yes".

 

Taking it from her, I take up an entire sheet of paper writing, "Janine was the leader of the Fuchsia City gym in the Gold and Silver versions of the video games. Those are the sequels to the Red and Blue, the originals. The story is that sometime after the first video game ended, Koga was invited to join the Elite Four, the most powerful trainers in the region who accept challengers at the Indigo Plateau. That's at the end of Victory Road. Beating the Elite Four is the biggest challenge of the game. So Janine took over Koga's gym for him after he left to become one of them. The circle of changes we're in right now definitely matches with the graphics of these sequels, so why doesn't the story line match up?"

 

I hand the notepad back to Mary Ann. We walk a short distance together while she reads. When she finally hands it back to me, I can see that her response is much shorter.

 

"Everything is moving backwards, right? Maybe this isn't Gold and Silver exactly but the transition period between the games. So Koga hasn't left yet."

 

"I guess that's possible," I say.

 

Hopping over the weird barrel shaped things that barely pass for fence posts, we come to a stop at the edge of the area that Elliot has designated for his training. Even from a distance, I can tell that Maria has gotten a lot stronger since I last saw her battle. Her Tackle is on the verge of becoming a full on Quick Attack with the speed she's managing. Kyu is executing a complex series of aerial maneuvers that includes loop the loops and high speed dives, all with his stick firmly secured in his beak. I'm guessing that the dirt flying up from that little hole in the ground would be Elliot's new Sandslash. I don't know if she's practicing her digging or just tossing rocks into the air for Chance to zap with precision bolts of electricity. Chica seems to be doing... well, I'm not sure what, but it doesn't look like it's working. Her face is screwed up like she's concentrating really hard, but nothing seems to be happening. As soon as she sees me, though, she dashes over.

 

"Chika!"

 

I smile at her. "How's the training coming?"

 

Her face clouds.

 

"She's doing fine," Elliot calls. "She's just being too hard on herself."

 

"It's ok, Chica," I tell her. "Maria and the others just had a whole week of really intensive training. You'll catch up again if you keep working at it."

 

"Ta ri," she mutters.

 

"You're strong enough for me."

 

"Keep it up, guys. You're doing great!" Elliot says. He walks up to Mary Ann and I. "I think we can be ready to challenge Koga tonight if we need to be. Do you really still want to rush this, though?"

 

"Yes," I say, exasperated. "We have every reason to get out of here as soon as possible. I need to get to Lavender Town before the jail disappears on us. I'm worried about Unicorn because the Nurse Joy here has gotten too one dimensional to be able to fix whatever Team Rocket did to his pokéball. And it would be dangerous for us to stay here any longer than we have to. We don't know what it's like inside that black and white zone, and we definitely don't know if that's the end of it. If things get even worse, it's going to start here."

 

"Mary Ann?" Elliot asks.

 

She signs something in reply.

 

"Alright, then. Tonight it is," Elliot says, not bothering to translate whatever it was.

 

"Are you sure your Pokémon are ready?" I ask.

 

Elliot shrugs. "Sure. We managed to beat Erika on the first try. Alma's the only one who has a type advantage against poison, but she's also the strongest. We have a fair chance. But, um, can I trade Harry for Chance again?"

 

"You had a full week to train your Magikarp and you still haven't gotten any usefulness out of him? What happened to evolving him into a Gyarados?"

 

"I'm making progress, just not enough yet. Come on, please?"

 

"Admit it, he can't even do a Tackle attack yet, can he?" Cutting Elliot off before he can argue, I add, "I can't trade you Chance because his pokéball is missing. No Chance, no Chica, and definitely no Unicorn. Do you want to go with Serendipity?"

 

Elliot frowns. "Well, I'll have to figure out a way to adjust my strategy, but, yeah. Thanks."

 

I feel like frowning myself. For once in his life, Elliot doesn't sound too confident.

***

This time, Mary Ann and I stroll straight through the sliding glass doors of the gym and wave away the registration man when he comes running up with his clipboard.

 

"No thanks," I say. "We're not here to challenge Koga. We've got a bone to pick with those guys."

 

I point accusingly down the right side of the gym, where two young men are standing up against one of the many glass walls. Since they're invisible, I'm not supposed to know that they're there, but, as I tried to tell Koga, I know this place like the back of my hand.

 

"Who? Us?" asks the nearest guy.

 

The other leaves his post in order to see what's going on, breaching gym protocol in the process.

 

"That's right, you," I say. "Trevor, how could you do such a thing to Mary Ann? And Marvin, how could you have let him?"

 

"What?" Trevor asks. "Lady, I don't even know you. And I definitely don't know any girl named Mary Ann."

 

Mary Ann flings a hand up to her mouth in a display of shock and indignation.

 

"This is Mary Ann, you jerk!" I say. "How can you say that you don't know her? You've been calling yourself her boyfriend for the last six months!"

 

Chica brushes her leaf against my leg, the signal that Elliot has just walked in. Listening carefully, I can hear him mumbling to the registration man, but Marvin and Trevor are too shocked to have noticed a thing.

 

"I'm sorry, there must be some kind of misunderstanding," Trevor says.

 

"And you, Marvin," I say. "How could you have let him go on cheating on her without saying a single word? I thought that we could trust you?"

 

"I... I..."

 

Elliot's feet pound as he takes off like a shot, zipping past the lot of us, brushing his left hand against the glass wall all the way down the side until he turns the corner and starts heading down the other side.

 

"Hey, wait!" Trevor calls.

 

"He didn't lock eyes with you, leave him alone," I snap. "You're just looking for an excuse to avoid this conversation, just like always. Did you think you could hide the truth forever, you cheating piece of scum?"

 

Elliot weaves through the maze with the speed and accuracy of someone who's been through this gym a thousand times. It's almost like someone told him exactly which way to go.

 

Finally, he comes to a stop in front of Koga. "I challenge you to a battle."

 

Through the glass walls, I can see Koga's expression perfectly, and it is sweet to see him thrown so completely off balance.

 

"This is unheard of. You come through my maze on the first attempt and without battling a single one of my apprentices?"

 

From behind, I see Elliot shrug his shoulders. "Just lucky I guess."

 

Koga is silent for a moment. When he does speak it is so quiet that I almost struggle to make it out. "Challenge accepted."

 

"Clear the room!" the registration man calls.

 

Marvin and Trevor look at him, then back as us.

 

"I'm telling you girls, this is all some kind of misunderstanding," Marvin says. "I don't know what's going on, but I have to get out of here so they can clear room for the battlefield. And Koga likes to have Trevor be his referee. Why don't you come back later, and we can get this all sorted out?"

 

Mary Ann folds her arms stubbornly.

 

"And give him time to run away? Not a chance. We will be sitting right over there until the battle is over, you can count on it."

 

We make a big show of marching over to the left side of the room where we can take up a position along the sidelines. As soon as our backs are turned, Mary Ann shoots me a smile.

 

"Nice job," I mouth.

 

All around, I can hear the sound of the glass walls sliding down into the floor. Koga leaps over the first one in his path before it's even halfway down. The second, he clears by tucking into a somersault, his red cape billowing around him beautifully. Showoff.

 

Elliot turns to us, open mouthed and almost trembling with excitement. "He's a real ninja! I'm going to battle a real ninja!"

 

Mary Ann gives him a thumbs up and a supportive smile. I just roll my eyes.

 

"If you think that is impressive," Koga says, "wait until you meet my Pokémon. Go, Venomoth!"

 

I wince. Did he seriously just say that? Announcing his Pokémon like an idiot? No one actually does that. Or, they're not supposed to. And what happened to the countdown?

 

Pokéball in hand, Elliot hesitates. Then, quickly, as though he's hoping Koga really won't notice, he shrinks it, sticks it back into the fourth slot on his belt, and throws out the one next to it instead.

 

Kyu uses his stick like a bat to hit the pokéball back into Elliot's hands before taking off into the air.

 

"Faar!" he crows.

 

"That's a good choice," I say to Mary Ann. "Alma has an advantage against poison types, but Kyu has an advantage in this case because Venomoth is a bug type as well as a poison type. And a ground attack like Magnitude wouldn't work on Venomoth anyway because it can fly."

 

I'm not sure that Mary Ann completely understood that, but she nods.

 

"Venomoth, Poison Powder," Koga instructs.

 

"Use your wings to blow the powder away," Elliot says. "Then use Peck."

 

"Another good move," I say. "Peck is a Flying type move, which... Wait, what just happened?"

 

While I was talking the moth-like Venomoth flapped its huge paper-thin wings back and forth to release a flurry of tiny poisonous scales that filled the air between it and Kyu with the appearance of a purple powder. The Farfetch'd responded by flapping his wings to stir up a counter breeze in obedience to Elliot's orders. It was strong enough to push against the Venomoth's own wings and ruffle the tiny gray hairs on its abdomen, but, somehow, impossibly, it was not strong enough to turn back even a single particle of the poisonous dust.

 

"Eh?" Kyu squawks in surprise. As the first of the powder scatters over his feathers, he swoops down into a dive, dodging underneath the purple cloud and swooping back up to deliver a vicious Peck, tearing a hole straight through the oversized insect's wing.

 

Venomoth shudders with pain, but maintains altitude just as easily as before. Kyu shudders as well, feeling the effects of the poison. But he shouldn't have been affected by so little of it.

Something is very wrong about this battle.


	26. The Fifth Badge

Koga smiles. “Is that the best you can do?”

“The best I can do?” Elliot asks in disbelief. “He ripped a hole in your Venomoth’s wing!”

On the battlefield, the lavender colored moth flaps on, apparently oblivious to the golf ball sized tear in the lower section of its wing. It’s not just ignoring the pain, it’s ignoring the basic laws of physics.

“If this is the strongest Pokémon you have,” Koga says, “you would be better served to admit defeat.”

“Kyu, use Peck again!” Elliot calls.

“Faar!” the Farfetch’d cries, swooping into a turn. Since the last attack, he’s been gaining altitude while his opponent has floated along carelessly near the surface of the battlefield. He makes one last push with his wings, brushing the ceiling with the tips of his feathers. He angles down, headfirst, then tucks his wings tightly against his sides and begins to fall.

“Venomoth, use Psybeam.”

The moth pauses in the air. Its huge glassy eyes seem, impossibly, to pop even further out of its head as it begins to focus its mind for the powerful psychic attack. But, in doing so, it has made itself an easy target.

Kyu plummets down so quickly my eyes can barely follow. His sharp yellow beak, slightly parted to hold his all-important stick, strikes a direct hit. I hear the tearing sound, like a phone book being ripped in half. Kyu pulls away. The hole itself is the same size as Kyu’s beak, but this time a giant web of fractures radiates out from it. Torn sections of wing ripple like streamers with every motion. The Venomoth does not lose altitude.

Or, apparently, its focus. A phosphorescent beam of pink and blue light shoots from Venomoth’s eyes.

Kyu cries out in pain, a single screech that pounds into my ear. And then he falls. Tumbling end over end, limp as a rag doll.

“Kyu!” Elliot shouts.

I leap to my feet, running toward the battlefield, but Kyu disappears in a flash of red light. Elliot pulled out his pokéball in record time.

“What are you trying to pull?” Elliot cries.

Koga looks at him patiently. “My Venomoth is twenty levels ahead of your Farfetch’d, boy. Do not blame me for your ignorance.”

“I don’t care how many levels it has, that Venomoth should not be flying.”

Koga simply gives him an indulgent smile. “Send out your next Pokémon.”

Elliot scowls. Reaching to his pokéball belt, he throws out his next choice like a pitcher going for a fastball. A really stupid move because when Maria pops out, she doesn’t even have time to turn her head before the pokéball goes whizzing past her long aqua-colored ear.

“Glay?”

“Venomoth, use Gust.”

Maria takes off before Koga finishes giving the order. She dashes across the battlefield, kicks the pokéball into the air, opens her mouth into a wide “O” shape, and blasts it back to Elliot.

“That was Icy Wind,” I say, surprised, “but without the ice.”

The pokéball smacks right into Elliot’s hand, and yet, somehow, he manages to drop it. While he’s bent over picking it back up, Venomoth’s Gust attack hits Maria full force. The dark blue things on Maria’s head that look almost like thin pieces of cloth dangling down from a winter hat snap wildly under the force of the sudden wind. Her knees bend, then buckle under her.

“Counter with an Icy Wind!”

The Venomoth’s wings begin to slow just as the attack hits. A taste of its own medicine, but with icy cold added to the mix. If only there weren’t twenty levels of difference between them.

Maria attacks again and again, Icy Wind on repeat. It’s the only attack that can reach a Pokémon flying through the air. Venomoth uses Supersonic, but misses its target. It uses the attack again, but Maria is able to shake off the confusion quickly without any damage done at all.

With each Icy Wind, the Venomoth gets slower, making its Psybeam and Gust attacks easier for Maria to dodge, but it still manages to get in another hit.

“Keep it up, Maria, you can do this,” Elliot encourages.

The Glaceon is panting hard, but she nods. She dodges one more Psybeam and lets out another stream of Icy Wind. The next Psybeam catches just her hind legs and her tail, but it’s enough. She collapses, shaking and whimpering. Elliot calls her back.

“He isn’t going to make it,” I whisper to Mary Ann. “Two Pokémon down, and he hasn’t even beaten one?”

Mary Ann looks at me with worry.

I turn back to the field to see Serendipity. That’s a surprise. I know Alma doesn’t know any long range attacks, but…

Elliot reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of earplugs. “Serendipity. Use Sing.”

***

I wake up wondering just how many times Elliot had Serendipity use Sing. I remember waking up before, but just in flashes. There was something flying. Not Venomoth. A Crobat? No, must’ve been a Golbat, right? Well, it was some kind of ‘bat, either way. What did Elliot do? Keep using Sing to knock it out of the air and land a metric ton of really, really underpowered Double Slaps on it? And use Softboiled after every single hit on Serendipity? I don’t see a ‘bat out there anymore, but, then, Serendipity’s not there, either.

“Alma, use Magnitude,” Elliot orders grimly.

I see Elliot’s new Sandslash for the first time. A tan colored Pokémon with a back covered in dark brown spikes. She looks like a hedgehog with huge white claws on her hands and on her feet. I wonder where Elliot found her. I wonder when he had the time. I feel a flash of anger.

Alma stomps a foot against the ground, and the entire gym begins to shake. On the opposite side of the battle field, the spider-like Pokémon Ariados trembles.

Mary Ann and I brace ourselves against the wall, but a particularly violent quake sends Koga toppling. His Ariados is hit more badly. It loses its footing and slams to the ground just as the tiles on the floor begin to crack and break apart, overturning.

“Riii!” it cries.

When the shaking stops, I can see a small pool of blood forming beneath it.

“I am growing tired of this battle,” Koga says after he leaps back to his feet. “Ariados, use Night Shade. Then Fury Swipes.”

“Magnitude,” Elliot counters.

The battle is over so quickly it’s almost hard to tell what happened. Some moves like Night Shade don’t look like anything at all, but whatever it is makes Alma shake so badly that her foot slipped and the Magnitude attack turns into little more than a rumble. The Ariados skitters across the ground, trips over a loose tile, gaining another cut on its sharp edge, but makes its way to Alma in time to slash straight across her face. Once, twice, and Trevor, the referee, declares the match to be over. Elliot lost.

Koga smiles, then turns to look directly at me. He hasn’t done a single thing to acknowledge me over the course of this entire battle, but I know he knew that we were here. Koga prides himself on being completely aware of his surroundings at all times, and, just from the tiny variance in his expression, I know he’s fully aware of the trick I pulled.

“Now,” he says, “what was that I said about cheaters?”

***

We set up camp at the edge of the forest that night. It’s hard to find a place to stay when no one in town remembers you and the Pokémon Center has turned into just a place for healing Pokémon. I don’t have any of my supplies anymore, but at least Mary Ann thought to bring some sleeping bags. I’m not sure how she got them here, but then, there are a lot of things that happened in this past week that I don’t know about.

I poke the fire with a stick, rearranging the logs. “Elliot, we have to leave tomorrow.”

“We can’t leave without that badge,” Elliot replies, continuing to brush Maria’s fur. “I’ll get it next time, I promise.”

The end of the stick catches fire. I pull it out, blow it out, and stick it into the dirt. “Your Pokémon can’t gain twenty levels overnight. We’ll come back for it when they’re ready.”

“Levels shouldn’t make a difference,” Elliot insists. “I’ve challenged and defeated four gyms now, and no one ever even talked about them before now. It’s easier when the Pokémon are strong, but strategy is what makes the difference.”

“Well, your strategy doesn’t seem to be working now.”

“But it should have been. That Venomoth should have been on the ground. That Ariados should have been more badly hurt. They looked bad but they didn’t act like it.”

“The rules are changing,” I say, picking up the stick again. “A higher level isn’t going to make the wing of a moth any less fragile, but, if you’re applying damage like the video games do, it raises the defense stat so high it’s going to take lots of hits to take it down. Twenty levels is way too much. It’s impossible for you to win this.”

Elliot’s brush pauses midway down Maria’s back. “We’ll train all day tomorrow. I’ll adjust my strategy. Maybe after all the work I’ve been doing with Harry—“

“Why are you still wasting so much time on that stupid Magikarp?” I throw the stick into the fire.

“Harry isn’t stupid,” Elliot protests. Maria jerks as he pulls the brush across her back a bit too hard.

I snort. “Yes he is, and you know it. What other useless things have you been doing this past week, hm?”

Elliot puts down the brush. “It wasn’t useless. Harry will be way more powerful once he evolves. If I can manage to get him there by the time we battle Blaine—“

“There you go again!”

Chica jerks her head, surprised by my sudden volume.

“Always talking about gym leaders. Can’t you think about anything else besides your precious gym battles?”

“Of course I can.”

“Good, then you’ll agree with me that this gym battle can wait, and we’ll hit the road for Lavender Town tomorrow morning.”

Elliot shifts position, making Maria jump off of his lap with a look of annoyance. “Hold on, I didn’t mean that I agree with you.”

“Well, which is more important to you?”

“What?”

“I said, which is more important to you?”

“I heard you, but I don’t get what you’re asking. Both things are important for our mission. Aren’t they equal?”

I grit my teeth. “Forget it.”

“But—“

“I said forget it.” I walk to the wood pile and pick up the thickest log that I can find, hoping to end the conversation, but when I turn around, Elliot is standing right there. He slides his hands underneath the log, silently offering to help me carry it.

“I just think we need to get the badge before it’s too late,” Elliot says quietly as we walk back to the fire. “That black and white stuff is still spreading, and the gym isn’t too far away from it. If we leave, I won’t get back before it’s swallowed up. And if everything goes too far backwards…” He swallows. “What about Maria?”

Taking the log from Elliot, I drop it as gently as possible into the fire. “Glaceon is generation four.”

Elliot nods.

“But we’re in the Gold and Silver zone now, aren’t we? That’s generation two. And nothing has happened to her yet.”

“But that doesn’t mean it won’t,” Elliot points out. “Chica’s not first generation either. Do you want her to go waltzing right into that black and white?”

Maria and Chica both fix Elliot with wide eyes.

I put a hand to my head. “They didn’t know there are different generations. All kinds of Pokémon seem the same to them.”

Elliot’s eyes widen to match theirs. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought you knew.”

“Ka?” Chica demands.

“Chica, sit down for a minute,” I say. I take a seat myself and wait until she follows suit before continuing. “Chikoritas are native to Johto.”

“Ka.” Chica nods.

“But the video games, the things in our world that seem to be controlling all of this. They didn’t start in Johto. The first video games were here in Kanto. So when we say first generation, we mean just the Pokémon that are native to Kanto. The original 150, plus Mew, number 151. And you’re number 152.”

I turn to Elliot. “You’re right; it’s too much of a risk. But that’s why we have to leave now, as soon as possible.”

“You said to fix this we have to get to Victory Road,” Elliot says. “We can’t do that without Koga’s badge.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Is that really the reason that you want it?”

“Yes.”

“And back when Dr. Clark was suggesting that I go to Mt. Silver? Or those two badges that you got this past week? What are your excuses for that?”

Elliot draws in a sharp breath. “I thought you said I did the right thing! Team Rocket made me get those badges. I didn’t want to. I was worried about you. This agent of theirs was following me, watching everything I did. I lost the first battle against Lt. Surge, too. He said he was going to make me use stolen Pokémon if mine weren’t strong enough. That’s when I found Alma. I didn’t battle her. I begged her to join my team and help me. Because the agent kept telling me that if I didn’t get my job done fast enough…”

He stops, seeming unwilling to complete the sentence. Maria rubs her head against his side comfortingly. The reminder makes Chica snuggle more tightly against my leg as well. From off in the distance where Chance is keeping watch, I hear a crackle of electricity.

“This is all my fault,” Elliot says sadly.

All my anger drains away. “Elliot, I told you. It was impossible for you to win today, no matter what you could have done.”

“Well, maybe. But I meant we wouldn’t be in this mess at all if we figured this out sooner. Mary Ann could have done what she did today a week ago. She offered. She just didn’t realize it would upset you like that. But I’ve known you longer. I should have known. When you ran away I should have gone after you.”

“You took a Pound attack to the ribs,” I point out.

“But I could have followed you sooner. I asked if Mary Ann was ok first. I was upset with you. I didn’t know Goran’s Confusion could affect you like that. I thought you were just being crazy and stupid—“

“I was being stupid,” I cut in.

“I’m trying to say I’m sorry, ok?” There’s actually a hint of annoyance in Elliot’s voice. I did just interrupt him for something like the fifth time in the last ten minutes, but, I don’t know, somehow I didn’t think Elliot ever could get annoyed with me. Or that he might think I’m being crazy when I keep flying off the handle for things that don’t make sense to him. Because I never bothered to explain things to him.

“And I’m trying to say you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” I tell him seriously. “What happened is not your fault. Or Mary Ann’s. Or Goran’s. It isn’t anybody’s fault. No, wait, I take that back. It’s Team Rocket’s fault. If you guys want someone to blame, blame them. I blame them.”

Elliot smiles.

“Ah, there it is. I knew it would be back,” I say, pointing to it.

The smile widens for a second, but then it fades again. “Still. You should be the one to decide what we’re going to do tomorrow. If you really want to go to Lavender Town…”

“I really need to go to Lavender Town,” I say quietly. “And soon. But you’re right about the badge. We do need it. And you’re the only one of us who can.”

“What are you saying?” Elliot asks.

“I’m saying that I think we need to split up for a while. I’m going to go to Lavender Town alone.”


	27. Souls and Silver and Gold

I’m running through the forest. It’s the dead of night; everything’s a blur of darkened shapes. I’m zigging and zagging around tree trunks, crashing through thick patches of ferns, panting as I stretch my legs to the limit. Someone’s following me.

I hear the baying of Houndour – fire breathing dogs, their hearts filled with darkness, their noses on my scent. Team Rocket. Team Rocket is hunting me.

“Chica!” I shout. “Chica, where are you?”

No answer. Not a sound. No! She can’t be… She can’t be…

“Chance!” I cry. My voice wavers and breaks. “Somebody! Elliot? Maria?”

A howl freezes my heart. They’re here. They’re right behind me. I hear the thudding of their paws. I hear the snuffling of their breath.

I fall onto my hands and knees, sobbing.

“Please,” I beg. “Please don’t hurt me.”

I hear the bark, feel the wind of the Houndour’s pounce. I feel it sail straight over my back. First one, then another, then a third. I look up.

The hounds are circling, growling menacingly. At the center, a little girl in a nightgown is whimpering. Jodie. One of the dogs snaps his teeth, and she pulls back with a cry.

Somewhere in the darkness, there is a cold laugh.

I didn’t think I had the strength, but now I’m on my feet, running directly towards the thing that terrifies me most. “No! Leave her alone! Take me! Take me!”

They vanish in a flash like lightning, and I see, leaning casually against a nearby tree, the source of the laughter. The dark black and scarlet red of the Team Rocket uniform, the green eye shadow highlighting the lack of compassion in those eyes, the tight little smile. Agent Devlin. She’s come back for me.

I wake up in a sweat, jolting upright. A pair of big red eyes looks back at me.

“Ka?” Chica asks in a whisper.

“Nightmare,” I whisper back.

She steps close, and I reach out my arms and pull her into a hug. Did I wake her by thrashing around or has she not been sleeping?

A few feet away, I see Chance’s chest slowly rising and falling as he lies curled atop a blanket. Elliot and Mary Ann are nothing more than shadows inside sleeping bags. The bundle of blankets next to them must be Goran, though I fell asleep before he and Mary Ann got back and my view is too dim to be certain.

Chica rubs the velvety skin of her cheek against my arm.

“I’m ok now,” I whisper, as much to her as to myself. “It was only a dream.”

And yet I hold Chica at a slight distance, afraid that if she puts her head up to my chest she will be able to hear the pounding of my heart. It was a dream, but part of it, the first part of it, could so easily become real. I will be going out into that forest alone tomorrow.

No, not alone, I remind myself. Chica and Chance will be right at my side. But what if they aren’t enough? We could be outnumbered, overpowered, pushed until we break. If we are recaptured, Chica and Chance won’t be safe this time.

If we are captured. If it comes down to a fight, how far will Chica go? How much would she let herself get hurt trying to protect me? I always use her pokéball to call her back before she goes too far. I realize, with a chill, that I have never truly seen her reach her breaking point. My mind goes back to the dream, the shout for her that met with nothing but dead silence. Would Chica defend me with her life?

Too late, I realize that my arms have begun to tremble. Chica turns, looks at me critically, then squirms and wriggles her way out. She’s walking towards Elliot’s sleeping bag.

“No, wait,” I whisper.

She looks back only briefly, probably to let me see the look of stubbornness I know so well. She’s going to wake him up. Finding someone for me to talk to or tattletaling? They’re not going to let me go alone tomorrow. They won’t believe that I’m strong enough to do it. But I have to be strong enough. And I can’t let Elliot or anyone else see me like this.

“I have a plan,” I whisper frantically.

Chica stops walking. Slowly turns.

“Tomorrow we leave together.”

Chica cocks her slightly to the side, a gesture that says, “I’m listening.”

There is always another option. I haven’t met a challenge yet I couldn’t slip my way out of or around. So, while I don’t exactly have a full plan just yet, I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something. I’d just better make it good.

***

I pull the black cap down low, narrowing my eyes to see through the darkness. “Stay here,” I tell Chica sternly. “I’m going in.”

I creep slowly towards the building, hoping that the dark Team Rocket uniform will keep me well hidden. I stick to the grass, approaching from the side. There are no windows here, only plain white siding obscured by shadows. Very study siding if I know Koga, and I truly hope I do.

I approach, reaching a hand out to touch the tiny lip where one piece of siding overlaps another. On most buildings, the siding would overlap on the lower side to allow rain water to drain down. But why would Koga demonstrate a practical concern like that? No, he ordered it this way on purpose, all right, but not for the reason that you’d think.

I reach up higher, locking the fingers of both hands on a convenient lip. The handhold doesn’t even support my fingers out to the first knuckle, but it doesn’t have to. I kick off my shoes, and my feet quickly find their purchase. The siding holds my weight easily. I scurry up to the top of the wall like a Mankey. Or a ninja.

I look up, tilting my head way back. The slanted edge of the fuchsia-colored roof extends above me, creating an overhang of just a few inches. He used to keep it about half a foot from the edge of the drainpipe, but here… I see the key affixed to the underside of the roof with a bit of tape. Perfect. They can’t charge you with breaking and entering if you don’t do any breaking.

One, two, three! I push off from the wall with both feet, half twisting as I gain the few inches of extra height I need. My right hand snags the key, and I drop, landing with a roll that’s almost perfect. Koga would be proud. If only he could remember that he taught me that.

“Chhh,” Chica hisses at me.

I hold up the key to her in response. I got it, didn’t I? I slip my shoes back on.

Moving as quickly as I can without making a sound against the paved walkway, I walk to the now apparently wooden door and slide in the key. No doorknob. The key turns with a click, I push, and the door swings open with all the silence a good ninja could ask for. I close it quickly before Chica decides to disobey my orders about staying put.

The back room is still here, just hidden. I saw Marvin head back there earlier today when Koga ordered his employees to clear the battle field. The darkness outside is nothing compared to the darkness inside a closed building with no lights on and few windows. I can’t see, but the entrance to the back room wasn’t visible anyway. I don’t know if this is some new renovation Koga came up with after I left or just the result of the slow degeneration of this place to Gold and Silver level, but I’m sure I saw Marvin pass right through a wall that wasn’t really a wall. Right about here.

The hand I’ve been slowly dragging across the wall meets with empty air. I step inside, take a deep breath, and switch on the lights.

Just as I had guessed, no windows here to spread the light outside as a warning. The office is smaller than I remember, but I suppose I should consider myself fortunate that it hasn’t disappeared completely. Ignoring the computers and small stacks of paperwork, I walk straight to my target. The safe. Wouldn’t you guess that I know the combination? Koga, Koga, Koga, how ever could you forget that you once trusted me so much?

The safe opens to reveal several large piles of cash, which I push aside. The real treasure is at the back: Soul badges, the prized emblem for defeating Koga’s gym. I pick up a tiny heart-shaped pin and examine it carefully. This is what I came for, a little scrap of metal that probably costs a pidgey piece a dozen to make. And all I need is one. So why do I feel as though I shouldn’t take it?

This isn’t the first thing I’ve ever stolen. True, those were different circumstances, but this is one tiny pin among hundreds. One cheap little trinket that we unfortunately need to fix… alright, to save, the entire world. And I’ll return it after we’re done with it. The Koga I know would give it to me gladly.

I close my fingers around it, rearrange the cash, and snap the safe door closed. If I get out of here now, no one will even know it’s missing. There must have been two hundred of them in there. Maybe three.

I take a step towards the door. And then I stop dead.

***

I walk back to our makeshift camp just as the sky is beginning to lighten. I already stopped a short distance off to change back into my normal clothes and stuff the Team Rocket Uniform back into my messenger bag. Mary Ann and Elliot don’t have to know about that.

“Jolt!” I hear Chance bark. “Jolt! Jolt!”

Speeding my steps, I burst into the tiny clearing. Chance runs up to me with obvious relief that quickly turns into an angry glare. I left without telling him. He and Chica exchange a few quick words.

Elliot groans and opens his eyes. “What is it, Chance?”

His eyes open wider when he sees me standing up and fully clothed. “What time is it? Did I oversleep?”

He turns his head to the left, where Mary Ann is still sound asleep, though Goran is now stirring next to her.

“I was just up early,” I explain. “I brought you something.”

I pinch the gym badge between my thumb and pointer finger, holding it out for him to see. Elliot’s mouth drops open.

“A Soul badge? What? How did you?”

“It’s all yours,” I say, tossing it to him. “Now we can go to Lavender Town together.”

It lands at the foot of his sleeping bag, where he snatches it up and turns it over and over in his hand like he’s trying to convince himself it’s real.

“There’s no way,” he finally manages to say. “You can’t have beaten Koga. Your Pokémon aren’t strong enough. You’re… Koga can’t be up this early.” He looks at me, the realization finally dawning on him. “Did you steal this?”

“So I walked into Koga’s gym in the middle of the night and took some stuff out of it. I—“

“You what?” Elliot scrambles out of the sleeping bag. “I can’t take this.” He stands and steps forward with his hand outstretched to give it back to me.

“Sure you can,” I argue.

“You can’t just take a badge like that without earning it,” Elliot says, pushing the badge at me.

I push his hand away. “What would you like me to do, turn myself in to the police? Oh, wait, there aren’t any around here, are there? I wonder where I would have to go to do a thing like that?”

“This isn’t funny,” Elliot snaps. “Take it back before Koga realizes it’s missing.”

“But it isn’t missing.”

“What do you mean it isn’t missing?”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me before. You know, for a guy who gets annoyed by interruptions, you would think—“

“Just tell me what you mean,” Elliot interrupts.

I shake my head but decide that’s enough playing around. “Koga has all the gym badges that he had before. I didn’t steal it; I duplicated it. Or, rather, I duplicated them.” I pull back the flap of my messenger bag and show him what’s inside. “If you ever lose it, I have two hundred and fifty four more for you to pick from.”

Elliot’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “How did you get all of those?”

“I duplicated them,” I repeat. “Koga very conveniently had about three hundred of these on hand. I used a key to get in, temporarily borrowed two hundred fifty five of them, and stepped into the black and white zone just long enough to pull a little trick called the 255 item stack duplication glitch. See, in Red and Blue, if you got exactly two hundred fifty five of something in your bag and you toss out the item you have stored on top of it, you get a whole new stack of two hundred fifty five. I counted out the badges, put them in my bag, walked out into the little circle around my old house, did my thing, and returned the originals to Koga’s gym. You’re not blaming me for a programming glitch, are you?”

“Alright,” Elliot acknowledges, “that’s kind of cool.”

“Only kind of?”

“It’s just, I really wish I could’ve gotten it the right way.” He frowns.

“Someday you will,” I assure him. “But not today. Today we go to Lavender Town.”

Elliot nods. “We’ll tell the police everything we know about Giovanni. They’ll catch him, you’ll see. And then Team Rocket will be done for good.”

I nod, but it’s a hollow action. I don’t believe telling the police will really make any difference in the end. There won’t be any Officer Jennys left soon. They never were a part of the video games.

I recall the conversation I had with Dr. Clark yesterday. After he got over how happy he was to see me, I asked him for his best estimation of Lavender Town’s chances. Less than a week until the Gold and Silver wave hits. Before that? “Insufficient data,” he insisted. Basically, he’s got no clue how long that police station is going to hold out. Not long.

I haven’t told Elliot the real reason, but I need to get there before it disappears. I need to talk to Derrick.


	28. First

Elliot insisted that I lead the way. It’s a straight north east shot from here to Lavender Town, so easy I could probably navigate it in my sleep, but, without following the roads, both Elliot and Mary Ann seem to be at a total loss. Still, I can’t help feeling there’s more to it than that. They’ve been signing back and forth ever since we left, and I don’t have the slightest idea what it’s about. True, it might just be convenient for them, but it would also be a very easy way to start keeping secrets from me.

Finally, Elliot speaks up. “Mary Ann wants you to know that I told her about the argument we had last night and about how you got the Soul Badge. She says even if you didn’t get it, you wouldn’t have had to go to Lavender Town alone. She and Goran would have come with you.”

“You would have?” I ask her.

She makes the nodding motion with her fist. Yes.

“I thought that you would want to stay with Elliot.”

Some emotion I don’t recognize flickers across her face but leaves just as quickly. “I want to help you,” she signs.

“You’ve already done more than enough,” I tell her. “I know Sabrina said you can help me find this key or whatever it is, but you kind of already have. I get that this is all because of me somehow and that it has something to do with Victory Road. I have no clue why all of this is happening or what I can even do to stop it, but at least we have enough to go on. And the problem isn’t you, it’s me.”

Mary Ann’s eyes widen, and her eyebrows fly up. “Are you saying that you have a problem?

“No,” I say too quickly. “I mean, maybe. I don’t know. The memory we need is stuck, that’s what I mean. And I just… I have to talk to Derrick, ok?”

“We’re going to Lavender Town to talk to Derrick?” Elliot asks.

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I ask why?” Mary Ann asks.

“I don’t…” It would be so hard to explain. I don’t know if I even know exactly what I’m doing. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Mary Ann’s face falls. “You still don’t trust me.”

I sigh. “I guess I just don’t know you well enough. Please don’t take it personally. I’ve been thinking about it since you asked, and, well, I guess I don’t really trust anybody.”

“What? Even me?” Elliot asks. He looks offended.

I hesitate before answering. “We’re getting there.”

He frowns and kicks at a pinecone.

“Look, it takes time, ok? If it makes you feel better, you’re the person I trust most. I trust you and I don’t. I know that doesn’t really make sense, but that’s the way it is.”

Elliot still looks unhappy, but he translates again when Mary Ann continues signing.

“I don’t think that’s completely true.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “What?”

Mary Ann’s lip twitches like she’s uncomfortable. “There’s something you should know. After Goran confused you and you ran away, Elliot and I tried to find you. The people from the meadow pointed us in the right direction, but there were a lot of woods to search. Goran tried talking with every wild Pokémon he could find in case any of them had seen you, and eventually we met a Pidgey who said she saw a man with a Machamp carrying you away. She said she recognized you for sure because her uncle had told her stories about the hero from the Central Forest.”

“Ok,” I say, not sure where she’s going with this. I mean, I didn’t realize that I’m considered a hero among Pidgey for saving just one of their eggs, but, while that doesn’t exactly thrill me, it doesn’t explain what Mary Ann’s point is.

“The Pidgey knew all about the Team Rocket base. All the Pokémon in the area did, but none of them would go anywhere near it. She told us that even the most powerful Pokémon in the forest were afraid of Team Rocket, and that’s when I knew that we needed help.”

Elliot pauses for a second, then begins speaking for himself. “I didn’t know that when they called me. Mary Ann and I split up to look for you. I didn’t know what to think, but after they called I knew I had to find a way to rescue you.”

He stops, watches Mary Ann begin signing, and nods his head towards her to indicate that he’s translating again.

“I talked him out of it,” Mary Ann signs. “It was really brave of him, but—“

“Stupid?” I supply.

Elliot glares at me. “It was really brave of him, but I knew the base was too strong to break into and that we’d only get ourselves captured for trying. Then we really would have been in trouble. Elliot still didn’t want to listen for a long time, until I convinced him to make the deal with the Rockets just to stall for time while I worked on finding a way to get you back.”

“So, while Elliot was out winning gym battles, you were…?”

“On my way to Lavender Town,” Mary Ann concludes. “At least I was at first. As Goran and I traveled along the routes, we kept overhearing people talk about this girl with a Chikorita, and I realized it was you. It would have taken me days to get to Lavender Town, but I started to think that maybe there were plenty of strong trainers right around here that might actually be willing to help us. Maybe we didn’t need the police after all.”

“You were going to try to break into the base with an army of regular Pokémon trainers?” I ask, amazed.

Mary Ann makes the sign for “yes”. “We never got the chance to try, but I’m telling you all this now to explain why I know an awful lot about you now. I didn’t mean to be snooping but…”

I nod. “It’s ok. I get it.”

Mary Ann smiles, looking relieved. “So I heard a lot about you, and, well, I guess Elliot is technically the person you trust most, but I don’t think he’s the one that you trust most.”

“Wait, what?”

“The one you trust most isn’t human. It’s Chica. Am I right?”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, obviously.”

“Chika!” The Chikorita jumps up into the air happily.

I smile at her. “What? You knew that.”

“Chika,” she says again, beaming.

“See,” I explain to Mary Ann, “I didn’t even think about it with her. It’s just a given.”

“That’s how trust is supposed to work.”

“Ok. So what exactly is the point of this conversation again?”

Mary Ann’s mouth opens into a wide smile as she signs proudly, “I have an idea. And I think you’re going to like it this time.”

***

“You’re sure that this will work?” I ask, casting Chica a look of concern. “Scientists of the Pokémon world have tried to find a way to accomplish this for years without a single thing to show for it. Dr. Clark told me it’s impossible.”

“Dr. Clark doesn’t know everything then,” Mary Ann replies from her position to my left. “And the scientists of the Pokémon world are clearly unaware of the power of sign language. It seems impossible, but I don’t think it’s ever been invented here.”

I look across the circle again at Chica, who returns a nervous look of her own. She’s sitting directly across from me, with Goran to her left. Elliot is directly opposite the circle from him. The rest of the circle is filled out with Maria, Chance, Serendipity, and even Alma. Kyu is seated on a nearby tree branch, trying to pretend he isn’t interested, even though his eyes are staring at the scene intently.

Chica turns to Goran and mutters something in Pokéspeak. In response, Goran begins to move, pointing to himself. Then he flattens his hand, raises it to his forehead and twists it out so his palm is facing us before finally using his pointer finger to tap his chin twice.

“I don’t know what to say,” Elliot translates.

“Ka!” Chica exclaims angrily, whapping Goran’s arm with her leaf. She unleashes a flurry of Pokéspeak so fast I can’t even separate the syllables. And Goran’s hands begin moving again, but much more slowly.

Elliot’s translation of the translation is slow as well, although he does his best to charge it with at least a bit of the anger we can clearly hear in Chica’s tone: “That’s a stupid thing to say! Why did you translate me saying that? I wanted my first thing to be special!”

“Chica!” I cut in.

She stops talking. She turns to look at me, and, somehow, it’s like she’s really seeing me for the first time.

“It’s ok,” I tell her.

Her leaf droops and her bottom lip juts out as she speaks again. “I wanted my first thing to be special.”

“Your first thing can be anything you want. I’ll just pretend the rest of it never really happened.”

“Chika!” she exclaims, her face lighting up with a smile once more.

I look at Goran, but he hasn’t moved this time.

“What did she just say?” I ask him.

“She said ‘Chika’.”

“Well, I know that! What did it mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just the way that Pokémon babble around humans. She’s used to showing her emotions that way.”

“You really do that?” I ask Chica. “Just rely on tone of voice without even trying to say anything real?”

Chica nods.

“It’s faster,” Goran chips in. “Besides, humans need things to be simple. Most humans.”

He looks at Mary Ann, and I get the feeling that he made the last minute exception for her sake only.

“Pokémon language really takes that long? I could have sworn Chica said a whole lot more than what you translated.”

“That was everything she said,” Goran replies with a scowl. “This wasn’t my idea, but I am doing my job properly.”

“Thank you again for agreeing,” I say, sensing that the Hypno needs a bit of encouragement.

“Hyp,” he replies gruffly, but he turns to Chica as if inviting her to continue.

“There’s so much I’ve wanted to say.” She pauses, looking at the ground for a moment, then back up at me with a small smile. “This feels unreal.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I’ve got that feeling.”

“But you talk to me all the time!”

“Sure, but do you have any idea how often I’ve wished that I could tell what you were trying to say?”

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to be able to talk to you?”

We both smile at the same time.

“You’re a very, very good trainer, though,” Chica says, through Goran, through Elliot. “You understand us lots.”

Chance and Serendipity nod in agreement.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” I argue.

“Most people ignore their Pokémon and use them just for battling. Or they give up trying. You didn’t.”

“How could I? You deserve to be understood. A Pokémon is just as smart as any human.”

“Most people don’t know that.”

“Well, they should. Just because someone is really different, a different species even, that doesn’t make them less than us. And if it’s hard to understand them, then it’s our job to do the best we can.”

Goran is looking at me in a way that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at me before. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” He lowers his hands for a few moments and looks at them before tilting his head to meet my gaze again. “You know, you’re not that bad. For a human.”

“Thanks,” I say. I think that’s the best compliment I’m going to get from him.

“You’re a good trainer,” Chica repeats, “but I’m mad at you.”

“What? Why?”

“You won’t tell me what happened.” She lets out a low growl.

Great. “Look, it’s no big deal, ok?”

“You’re lying.” She narrows her eyes as she stares at me.

I wince. Of course I can’t hide the truth from her. How can I explain? “I just don’t want you to worry about me.”

I hear her exclamation before the translation: “I’m already worried about you!”

Elliot looks at me. “She’s right, you know. We all are. Maybe if you just told us… is it really so much worse than leaving it to our imaginations?”

I frown. I hate that they have a point.

“You have to stop,” Chica says. There’s a pause, but before I can ask what, Elliot picks back up the translation. “Hiding things. From me. It’s stupid, and I hate it.” She stomps her foot on the ground for emphasis. “No more.”

I hesitate. If I promise this, I’ll have to follow through. And she knows it. I can’t. I can’t promise that. My eyes dart to Elliot for help, but he only returns my gaze coolly before deliberately turning his head back to face Goran.

Chica lets out another growl. She jumps up from her position in the circle, runs straight across, and tackles me in the chest, just hard enough to knock me onto my back. She stands with her back feet on my stomach, looking straight down into my eyes while the tip of her leaf twitches with the force of her anger. I nearly gag on the rotten fruit smell.

She speaks so slowly I can catch every syllable of her “Chikori”s and “ta”s: “No. More.”

And the thing is, even though she’s physically pinning me to the ground to force me to agree, I know that she’s doing this for my own good. And -- I can’t even believe I’m saying this -- there’s a part of me that thinks she’s right.


	29. Welcome to Lavender Town

I told her everything. A little bit here, a piece there, speaking in hushed tones while Elliot’s Pokémon fought off the wild Pokémon that we encountered. I haven’t seen this many battles in a row since our journey through the Central Forest to save Maria from her unwanted evolution. This time, though, the Pokémon don’t seem interested in attacking us humans. And, even more strange, they wait to make their attacks until it is their turn.

“Fury Attack,” Elliot orders.

Tightening the grip on the stick in his wing, Kyu dives towards the Hoppip hovering in the air like a tiny pink helicopter.

“Just when I thought that I’d escaped,” I tell Chica, “when I was running for home with everything I had, that’s when the guard saw me. I was just so excited, I didn’t see him hiding in the tree until it was too late. And that’s when I called out you and Chance. You know the rest.”

Kyu’s first strike hits the Hoppip so hard it blows two feet to the left. He has to fly over to it to get in the next hit, but it just twirls its leaf propeller in the air and waits patiently for the end of his multi-part attack. This time, he hits it directly over the head. It bobs down and back up. No drifting.

I look at Chica, trying to gauge her response. Her face is pulled in tight like she’s angry, but the smell from her leaf hasn’t gotten back to rotten fruit. It’s strong and sharp, and it reminds me of the green liquid the Rockets forced me to drink to get rid of my concussion.

“Chica?” I ask nervously.

She growls, long and low, but she makes no motion.

I look down at my hands and see that they’re shaking. My cheeks feel sticky with salt. “Chica, please tell me you don’t think any less of me.”

Her head snaps back up to me, eyes wide. Then, just as quickly, they narrow. She spins around and launches a gush of Razor Leaves straight into Kyu’s battle. The Farfetch’d stops kicking up his Sand Attack and watches as one after the other bright green leaves drive into the Hoppip’s rounded body, thrusting it back faster and faster and faster until it slams into a tree trunk. It falls to the ground, fainted.

“Hey,” Elliot says, “what was--?”

Chica grabs his pant leg in her mouth and yanks, nearly making him face-plant in the dirt.

“Woah, hey!” He swings his arms wildly to stay on his feet.

She gives him another yank, pulling him towards me.

“Ok, ok,” Elliot says. “You could have asked nicely.”

He marches the rest of the way on his own power, but his expression softens when he looks at me. I turn away.

“Kari!” Chica barks.

I’m relieved to see that, when Goran answers her summons, his expression doesn’t vary from annoyance for one second.

“No,” he says in a tone I have trouble deciphering.

Chica launches into a string of Pokéspeak, and I realize she must be answering the question that I asked: does she think any less of me?

Elliot’s translation makes it quick: “Never.”

Chica nods once and goes off into a second round, much longer this time. Goran’s hands move slowly.

Elliot’s expression flips rapidly. “Hey! Now you’re just being rude!”

“What did she say?” I press.

“Fine, fine. She said, ‘if you think there’s any good reason for anyone at all to think that about you, you’re even more of an idiot than he is.’”

I start laughing.

“Come on, can’t a guy catch a break around here?” Elliot asks. “And I thought dealing with one of you was bad enough.”

I laugh even harder. Chica smiles triumphantly. She nods her head at Goran, and he walks off with a grunt.

“Oh, so we can go now, is that it?” Elliot keeps issuing some complaint about how he feels underappreciated and that I really need to start learning ASL, but as my laughter dies away, my focus is on Chica.

“Thank you.”

Elliot walks away, making a few signs to Mary Ann and muttering something about crazy Chikorita girls and girl Chikoritas. I close my eyes and take a few relaxing breaths. Then I reach into my bag, pull out a bottle of water and splash some from my hands onto my face. Time to get moving again. But this time…

“You want to get stronger, don’t you?” I ask Chica.

“Ka!” she says, eyes sparking with fierce determination.

I nod. “Just don’t go overboard on me. These are Hoppip and Nidorina, not Team Rocket.”

She frowns, but the tone of her voice implies acceptance. I stand and walk over to join the others.

“Now, are you ready to get serious about this training?” I ask Elliot.

“I am serious about this training.”

“You’re using Sand Attacks on Hoppip. It’s a Grass and Flying type, why didn’t you use Peck and get it over with?”

“Kyu isn’t going to get better unless he practices all his moves,” Elliot argues. “You’re the one who taught me that.”

“Well, that was true back when things were normal, but in here? I’m willing to bet we need to start doing some old fashioned level boosting by snagging experience points. The faster the KO the better.”

“We?”

“Chica wants to help out, too.”

“Jolt!” Chance barks, wagging his tail excitedly.

“And Chance,” I amend. “Are you ready for some double battles?”

***

It’s not long before we make it out of the Gold and Silver zone and the wild Pokémon encounters fade. Chica and Chance did well, but I’m glad it’s over. If we’d gone through too many more, one of them might have been seriously injured. Without pokéballs to return them to, they have to be able to walk all the way. And they don’t have the benefit of a Pokémon Center out there waiting for them; they’ll have to heal like humans do.

Our journey to Lavender Town takes three days. Mary Ann and Elliot team up to try to teach me ASL along the way, which makes time pass more quickly. When my brain feels ready to burst, I switch into the role of teacher for Mary Ann and the Pokémon, explaining the finer points of the Pokémon video games and particularly how they might affect a battle strategy.

Chica, Chance, and all of Elliot’s Pokémon soak it up eagerly, but Mary Ann’s and Goran’s attention seems to shift in and out. When I finally ask her about it, she tells me that she and Goran have never battled together and never plan to. When I asked how she plans to avoid it if another trainer looks her straight in the eye, she gave me a big surprise.

“I’m not a Pokémon trainer,” she said, using signs I had already been able to pick up.

“What?” I signed back.

She pointed to her eyebrows, reminding me to raise them while asking that kind of question. Then she gestured Elliot over so that he could translate her next response: “Goran and I have a special relationship. We are linked psychically, but he is not officially my Pokémon. I’ve never captured him inside a pokéball, and I don’t plan to.”

Well, it certainly explains why I have never seen him being called into or out of one. But even for someone who dislikes battling as much as myself, it strikes me as a little strange. I’m realizing that there is much more to Mary Ann than I’m aware of.

As we approach the town, I find myself getting more and more nervous. Memories keep bubbling to the surface – Derrick hitting and kicking me, putting gum into my hair, telling lies so none of the other kids would like me. But there’s something worse. Something I can’t think about.

My mind flashes off the topic quickly, like opening a door and slamming it again so fast you don’t even see what might be inside. I set my eyes on the section of house I can see peeking out at the end of the rocky pass we’re walking through. Even though it’s purple, it reminds me of the houses in Fuchsia City already. Same flat roof that probably leaks in the lightest rain shower. Same stupid window design. Instead of reducing visibility by having the windows face a wall of rock, the designers of this city carved them into slits so small they probably don’t let any light through. Not to mention the fact that I bet they all face north or south, which are definitely the directions that the sun comes from and goes to.

As we step out into the wider area where the town lies nestled among the rock, I can see a second house identical to the first and the little checkered path of flat brown stone that stretches out in front of both. To the right is a standard Pokémart in blue and white, and at the northeast corner Pokémon Tower rises up over everything. Seven floors of final resting places for Pokémon. And the ghosts that haunt their graves.

I shiver, not just at the thought of death but because seeing all of this right now with my own eyes has made my plan seem terrifyingly real.

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore,” I say nervously.

Elliot gives me a weird look. “It was your idea.”

Mary Ann gives him a backhanded whack on the arm and issues a correction: “You can do this.”

Can I? Well, probably. I can make myself do just about anything, but is this really such a good idea?

We walk forward, into the center of town. Hello, house number three, it’s so nice to see the only remaining residence. And that red-roofed Pokémon Center I see behind you must be the only remaining building your “town” has to show for itself. Six buildings…

“I don’t see a police station anywhere.”

Elliot and Mary Ann look around, but before they can say anything, I realize that I spoke too soon. Out of the wide opening at the base of Pokémon Tower, three identical police officers rush towards us.

“Thought you could get away from us, did you?” Officer Jenny accuses me.

“What do you mean? I—“

She whips out a pair of handcuffs from somewhere behind her back and grabs my lower arm. I stop midsentence. Memories of another pair of hands grasping my wrists flash through my head, and I lash out blindly, making the officer stumble back. Just in time for Chica to collide into her stomach with a savage cry.

“Kkkaaa!”

The air bursts out of her lungs in a single gasp as she lands hard on her back. Chica leaps back up, facing the second and third officers with a growl.

“Restrain them!” the second officer orders. She whips out a Pokéball.

“There’s no need for this!” Elliot protests. “We were only trying to—hey, get away from her!”

The third officer has swooped up and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Mary Ann. Goran narrows his eyes in anger, but does not attack. Standing next to him, Chance looks on in shock.

Chica fires her leaf into helicopter mode, barking out something in Pokéspeak.

The second officer throws her pokéball straight up into the air. “Let’s go, Growlithe!”

The orange dog Pokémon appears, wagging its puffy white tail just once before locking eyes onto its target. It’s a cute Pokémon, almost like a puppy, but, like all Pokémon, it’s got a trick up its sleeve. It breathes fire.

“Wait, stop!” I say. “I surrender, look.”

I bring both hands up into the air, and Elliot copies the gesture.

“Yes, me, too.”

But the third officer rushes straight past him to get to me.

“Chica, stop,” I say.

The first cuff latches onto my wrist. The spinning of her leaf ratchets up to its highest speed. She turns away from her opponent. And towards the officer handcuffing me.

“Chica!”

“Growlithe, use Flame Wheel now!”

While Chica’s back is turned, the dog-like Pokémon’s attack is unleashed with a burst of flame. Chica turns, Razor Leaves going wild, zipping out into the oncoming flame, cracking, sizzling, vanishing into puffs of smoke.

My second hand is cuffed to the first even as I pull desperately against the officer restraining me.

“No!”

I hear a slam, see the entire patch of grass where Chica stood in engulfed in flames. And then a howl of pain.


	30. Too Many Jennys

“Chica!” I shout, wrenching myself out of the grip of the police officer and running as well as I can with my hands cuffed behind my back.

The wheel of flames disperses, leaving a swath of burned up grass, and, in the center, not one but two small figures.

“Chance!” Elliot gasps.

The air is filled with the smell of singed fur and burning leaves. Chance’s long yellow ears are pulled so far forward they’re covering his eyes, all the short yellow fur singed clean off to leave huge white bald spots. The fur on his back and around his neck has caught fire at the ends, burning with tiny flames like those on the wicks of a candle. He jumps up and rolls over and over in the dried up grass to put out the fire, and it is only then that I see Chica.

Crumpled on the ground where Chance landed on top of her, she whimpers in pain. Every spot where Chance’s body wasn’t able to protect her from the flames is brown and dry. The velvety soft plant matter of her skin is as dead as the grass around her, and a red liquid drips out from the cracks. Reflected in the tears welling in her eyes is her leaf, quivering like the final leaf clinging to a branch in an autumn breeze. Once long and sleek like a beautiful green elm leaf, the fire has torn away the pointed tip and eaten into the gentle curve. Blackened edges ooze green from the broken veins.

Still running, I leap over her, landing perfectly in spite of not having my arms to balance with. And I kick that Growlithe in the face.

It yelps, but now two officers are grabbing hold of me, dragging me towards the entrance of Pokémon Tower. I shout and dig my feet into the ground, but suddenly their grip relaxes. Finally, my eyes dart up from Chica.

What?

All I see are a squinting pair of white eyes with black pupils like little specks and a thin circle of metal swinging back and forth, back and forth. My eyes swing with it, unable to divert even to the yellow hand of the Pokémon that holds it. Back and forth, back and forth. The officers crumple to the ground beside me, but I’m beginning to feel lightheaded. I take a step, lose my balance, and everything blacks out.

***

I wake up thinking it was all a nightmare.

“Chica?” I say as my eyes flutter open, waiting to see her running towards me with a huge smile and playfully sparkling red eyes, waiting for just the sight of her to fade the nightmare into dust.

But all I see is the cold stare of Officer Jenny from across what appears to be a small reception desk. I flinch back but find my hands are chained to it; the link connecting my handcuffs passes through a little metal ring screwed tightly into the wood.

“Elliot? Mary Ann?” I ask, looking left and right to find nothing but curved walls and empty space.

“Your co-conspirators are upstairs being processed,” Officer Jenny replies.

“And you healed my Pokémon?” I demand.

“That is no concern of ours. You shouldn’t have attacked us.”

“No concern of yours? Did you see what that Growlithe did to her?”

“No, I didn’t,” she replies, grabbing her hat by the brim to readjust it. “I was questioning a member of Team Rocket when the battle broke out. Now I suggest that you start talking.” She stands up from her chair, looming over me with her hands on her hips. “How long have you been working for Team Rocket?”

“Working for Team Rocket?” I repeat incredulously. “I wasn’t working with Team Rocket, I was captured by them!”

“So, pretending you’re the victim, eh? We’ll just see about that one. Do you confirm or deny the fact that you were at the Silph Co. building on the day of May 23rd?”

“I saved the freaking company!”

“You admit that you were there?”

“Of course I was there!”

“Do you further admit that the battle you took part in was a distraction intended to draw attention from the attack on Sabrina’s gym?”

“No, you have it back—“

“And that your disappearance the next day and your failure to come forward with your statement were intended to hinder this police investigation and preserve your status as Team Rocket’s undercover operative?”

“I am not an undercover operative!” I say, throwing up my hands as far as the chain will allow.

Officer Jenny leans over, bending her face just beyond my reach yet close enough to make me feel instinctively uncomfortable. “That’s what they all say.”

I let out a hard breath. “You know what? You police officers are all crazy. Tell me something, do you ever catch any criminals or do you just go around persecuting innocent people?”

Officer Jenny straightens up immediately. “We catch every criminal.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why are Team Rocket running around free?”

Her face twitches.

“You don’t really think I did anything. You’re just frustrated because you can’t do your job. If you had, none of this would have ever happened. The battle outside of Silph Co., the attack on Sabrina’s gym… I wouldn’t have been kidnapped if you didn’t all have your heads on backwards! 

“You know there’s a ‘secret’ Team Rocket base right in the middle of Celadon City? You never thought to say, ‘hm, let’s check out this suspicious looking game corner’? No, of course not! Why would there be gang related business running out of a fishy gambling establishment? We should go harass the owners of that pet store with the little Eevees in the window!”

Officer Jenny’s oval-shaped eyes widen. She pulls a book of tickets out of the little black bag at her waist and starts writing frantically. Don’t tell me that this is actually working!

“You don’t really believe I did any of those things you accuse me of,” I tell her. “You’re furious because I am single handedly taking down more criminals than your entire police force combined. And you know what really takes the cake?”

“What?” Officer Jenny asks almost breathlessly.

I smile a little in spite of myself. “You don’t even know who the leader of Team Rocket is.”

Officer Jenny leans forward. “Who? Tell me who the leader of Team Rocket is!”

“You’re never going to believe it.”

“Tell me who it is!”

“It’s the last person you would expect. Although, sometimes it really is the last person you would ever suspect who is the most suspicious, isn’t it?” 

The final part thrown in just for her. She’s practically salivating now.

“The one man no ordinary citizen would ever expect, a man with power and connections. A man who flaunts the strength of his Pokémon in front of everyone in broad daylight because he thinks he’s outsmarted the police.”

“Never,” Officer Jenny growls.

“The leader of Viridian City gym.”

“Giovanni!” she finishes triumphantly, as though she came up with the idea completely on her own.

“Giovanni,” I agree, nodding. “And he’s laughing right now because you’ve wasted your time arresting me and my friends instead of going after him.”

“You will be released immediately!” Officer Jenny exclaims. “Jenny!”

A second officer comes running down the staircase, high heels clicking.

“Release this girl’s two friends at once!”

Her mouth opens into an almost perfect circle. “But Jenny!”

“I am the sergeant. My orders will be followed,” barks _Sergeant_ Jenny.

“Yes, ma’am.” She darts back up the stairs.

Sergeant Jenny retrieves the keys from one of her tiny shirt pockets and unlocks the handcuffs. They fall onto the desk with a sharp clatter. I stand immediately. Chica. I have to see if she’s ok.

“You won’t regret this,” I promise Sergeant Jenny. I swing my legs up over the desk, but just as I’m about to push off from it and make a run for the door, Sergeant Jenny steps in front of me.

“You are free to go,” she says, “but I would like to request that you stay to assist with our investigation. It’s clear that you know many things that would be of use to us.”

“Gladly,” I say, “but my Chikorita…”

“I assure you she is being cared for. My officers tell me that your Hypno went to the Pokémon Center after putting us to sleep. Nurse Joy is doing all that she can for your Chikorita and your Jolteon, although it would have been better for them if you had returned them while you had the opportunity.”

“I couldn’t return them; their pokéballs were lost when I escaped Team Rocket in the forest near Vermillion.”

Sergeant Jenny starts writing on her ticket book again. “The forest near Vermillion? Can you identify this place exactly? And give descriptions of the members you encountered to the Smeargle who acts as our sketch artist?”

“Yes, but can’t I just see my Pokémon first?”

Sergeant Jenny reaches back into her black bag and pulls out a tiny gray device that she begins speaking into. “Pokémon Center, report!”

“Jolteon has been treated and released. Chikorita is currently in surgery. Condition unknown,” comes the reply.

“Condition unknown?” I repeat. I slide off the surface of the desk and stand listening anxiously.

“Send over the Jolteon and notify of any updates immediately,” Sergeant Jenny orders, then she puts the radio back into the bag and turns to me. “Are you satisfied?”

“What do you mean condition unknown?” I demand.

“It means Nurse Joy has been too busy treating her to give our officer an assessment. There’s nothing to be done.”

“So you want me to sit here just answering questions while Chica is in surgery?”

“If you’d like, we can conduct this interview in the Pokémon Center’s waiting room, but either way you’ll have to wait until the surgery is complete. My officer will tell us as soon as there’s any news.”

I look at the sergeant carefully. She’s making an awfully persistent argument for someone who claims that I am free to go. Am I really, or is all of this some kind of test? Is my release conditional on doing whatever Sergeant Jenny says?

Suddenly, I hear Elliot’s voice from the top of the stairs. “Seriously, we’re free to go? Awesome! I knew she’d get us out of this.”

I see Sergeant Jenny’s eyes look to the staircase with a hint of suspicion, and I wince slightly. Seriously Elliot? Can you not make it sound like we’re trying to get away with something?

He walks down the stairs, followed closely by Mary Ann. Before they can get too far into the room, I wave them over.

“Sergeant Jenny here would like us to answer a few questions for her,” I say. “And, of course, we’re completely willing to cooperate in the interests of public safety.”

I shoot Elliot a significant look, but he only stares back blankly.

“Um, sure, if you say so.”

I resist a sudden urge to facepalm.

“Let’s start with the attack in Saffron,” Sergeant Jenny says. “If you weren’t working with Team Rocket, how exactly did you know that they were planning a takeover of Silph Co.?”

Elliot’s face shoots across with worry, but I freeze my expression carefully in place.

“Why don’t we make ourselves a little more comfortable?” I suggest while my brain races to come up with an excuse. “Perhaps if you have a few more chairs, we could all sit down. And Sergeant, if you’ll give me just a moment, I’m sure I could find a proper notepad in my bag that you can make use of.”

“Excellent suggestion,” she approves. 

She turns and begins walking to the stairs, but, just as her back is completely turned and she’s about to climb the first one, she brings out the radio again and pushes a little black button on the side. Yet another Officer Jenny steps into the doorway, as if she’s making an obvious display of standing guard. We won’t be making a run for it today.

Mary Ann signs something to Elliot, but either I don’t know the signs that she just made or I’m completely failing to remember them with every wheel in my brain turning in overdrive. She’d better be telling him to let me do all the talking. I need to be the one to do this, even though I have no idea how I’m going to pull it off. I have one minute, maybe two, before I have to deliver an entire story that’s believable, lets me tell every single thing I know about Team Rocket, and doesn’t reveal that I’m a crazy girl who thinks she’s from another world and that she’s the only one who can save this one from a slow destruction that no one from this world can even see happening. And avoid getting arrested all over again by tipping off the Sergeant's hypersensivity towards suspicion. But no pressure.


	31. Released

“So let me get this straight,” Sergeant Jenny says. “You know all of this information because Koga of Fuchsia City sent you on a top secret mission that partially involved spying on the gym leader of Viridian City? And, furthermore, you’re stating that Koga had express authorization to do this granted to him by the champion of the Indigo Plateau?”

“The big man himself,” I nod. “Of course, he’ll deny everything if you ask him about it. I know I can trust you, Sergeant Jenny, but the champion worries that there may be a Team Rocket agent hiding somewhere within the police force itself.”

Officer Jenny’s face lights up. “That explains why we haven’t been able to take down their organization!”

“Exactly. You’ve been double crossed.”

“By who?”

I shake my head this time. “Not even the champion knows the answer to that one. It’s why he’s being so very cautious.”

“In that case, Koga certainly is the man for the job,” Sergeant Jenny approves. “There’s no one better when it comes to stealth.”

“Or ninja skills!” Elliot cuts in.

All three of us look at him.

“What? I’ve been quiet, for like, this whole time!”

Mary Ann smiles.

“And these are definitely the men and women who held you captive?” Sergeant Jenny sweeps her hand over each of a series of pencil drawings in turn: the boss of the Team Rocket Base, Giovanni, Agent Devlin, and others without name.

I avoid looking into their eyes. “Yes.”

“Alright, then, I think that we have everything we need. Was there anything else you wanted?”

Yes. Yes, there was. My heart begins to pound.

“Derrick,” I force myself to say.

“Who?”

“Derrick of Fuchsia City. The Team Rocket operative I was battling with outside of Silph Co. I need to speak with him.”

“That can be arranged,” Sergeant Jenny says slowly.

I clamp my hands between my legs to stop them shaking, but the motion only travels to my arms.

“Do I…?” I bite my lip. “Do I have time to check on my Chikorita first?”

“She’s only just gotten out of surgery,” Sergeant Jenny reminds me. “It will be a while before she wakes up.”

“I know. I just need to see her.”

“Alright. I’ll have Derrick waiting for you here when you get back. He hasn’t said a word to us, but maybe you can get him talking.”

I nod absently and stand.

“We’ll come with you,” Elliot says, and Mary Ann signs her agreement.

Together, we walk slowly out the door.

“They had us chained up against graves! Graves! Can you believe it?” Elliot shivers.

“Are all police officers in this world so suspicious?” Mary Ann signs.

There’s a small pause, like Elliot is waiting for me to respond to that, but my concentration is all on my next footstep. Right foot up, down into the grass. Left foot now.

“You have no idea,” Elliot says finally. “We were in Cerulean City once, and...”

I tune out the familiar story, taking it step by step, wondering if I feel worse about Chica or about the fact that I’m too scared about facing Derrick to feel as badly as I think I should about her.

Elliot’s voice cuts off somewhere midsentence, looking at me with surprise. “You’re crying.”

We’re inside the Pokémon Center lobby now. I reach a hand up to my face and swipe at it angrily.

“I’m here to see my Chikorita,” I try to tell the nurse behind the front desk, but I’m crying so hard now that the words come out all wrong.

“Your Chikorita, of course,” Nurse Joy says anyway. “Follow me.”

She leads us to a small room at the back where half a dozen Chanseys are congregated around one small cot, the only one in the room that isn’t empty. There’s a soft glow emanating from it, a yellow light that I know well. Softboiled, Chansey’s signature healing move.

The Chanseys move apart as I come closer, giving me room to see the tiny figure lying weakly at the center. Chica’s eyes are closed, and her body is limp. I would say that it’s like she’s sleeping, but, even in the midst of sleep, I’ve never seen her look so weak. Her broken leaf lies across a pillow all its own, the jagged edges covered in a translucent brown substance like crystallized tree sap. The wounds on her body are a confusing jumble of black stitches and patches of something like moss glued into place with more tree sap like a little kid’s effort to put back together Mom’s broken vase.

My throat closes up. I reach out a hand towards her, but Nurse Joy intercepts it gently.

“The Chanseys are using Softboiled to fight off the risk of an infection,” she explains. “In the areas where the plant skin burned away entirely, the animal portion underneath was left exposed. Traditional bandages and antiseptics will only harm the plant, so we must take every precaution against germs.”

I swallow hard, nodding. I want so badly just to brush my fingers along the side of her head, to try to comfort her somehow. But I can’t do anything. Nothing except stand here wishing that I had told her not to do anything reckless when I had the chance. I throw out Serendipity’s pokéball and allow her add her own healing power to the group of Chanseys.

“Sergeant Jenny sent me the pokéball containing your Seaking,” Nurse Joy says quietly. “I will be able to repair it by the end of the night. He will come back out again as good as new.”

“Thank you, Nurse Joy.”

I should feel relieved, but the negative emotions are far too powerful. I feel as though nothing in the world can cheer me up right now.

“She’s going to be fine,” Elliot says. “If any Pokémon can make it through this, it’s Chica. She’s as tough as nails!”

“Or she thinks she is,” I mutter.

“What was that?”

I ignore the question. “Will you stay here with her? Both of you?”

Elliot frowns, but Mary Ann just looks surprised. He translates for her: “Of course, but—“

“I need to take care of this.”

I turn on my heel and walk out of the too-white room, away from everything inside it. I step back into the Pokémon Center lobby and keep on going. I keep walking until I’m climbing the stairs back up to the first floor of Pokémon Tower. I pause in the instant before I would step through the doorway.

I hardly realized what I was doing until just this moment. I could will myself to walk out of the Pokémon Center, make myself walk up a flight of stairs, but as soon as I step through that doorway, I will have to face Derrick. The second he catches sight of me, there is no turning back. He will know that I have come to talk to him, he will insist that I get on with it. And if I don’t, I will lose any meager sliver of respect I’ve ever forced him into having for me.

But the result will be the same if I don’t show up at all. I step into the room.

“Hey, Chikorita Girl,” he sneers.

I look at him, chained to the desk exactly where I was only an hour ago, his hair limp, his face scruffy like he hasn’t shaved in a week, his skin as pale as the ghosts he’s been bunking with, and yet, to look on his expression, there can be no doubt at all that he still thinks he’s better than me. He says that nickname like it’s an insult. And suddenly, I want to know.

“Why do you call me Chikorita Girl?” I ask, stepping closer.

“I don’t. What are you, deaf?”

I flinch.

His eyes widen. “Oh, is that an insult to you now?”

Not to me. To Mary Ann. To say that the way that he just said it… but if I tell him this it will only send him after her.

“Yes, you do call me that,” I argue back instead. I slide into the chair opposite him, trying to look completely at ease, but, I fear, failing miserably.

“I have never called you Chikorita Girl in my life, Chikorita Girl. Why would I when your real name is just so much fun?”

He knows my real name. He’s teasing me with it, milking the fact that he knows something that no one else in this whole world does. And the fact that I want to know so desperately guarantees that he will never be the one to tell me. But he does know it.

“So you are the same Derrick, then. The one that was in foster care with me.”

“Of course I’m the same Derrick.” He snorts. “How many Derricks do you know? Oh, duh, that’s right, you don’t have any friends.”

“Prove it,” I say.

“Prove that you don’t have any friends? Well, to start with—“

“No,” I interrupt. “Prove that you’re the same Derrick that I used to know.”

He frowns in an exaggerated manner. “You don’t recognize me? I’m hurt, really hurt.”

He takes both hands and clutches them over his heart, rattling the chains of the handcuffs in the process.

“Uh huh, sure. Are you the same guy or aren’t you?”

He folds his hands together on the desk, and his face slides into that familiar weasel look. “Don’t you remember the day you finally found out the truth?”

My heart stops. “The truth about what?”

He smiles toothily. “Oh, you remember all right.”

“Look,” I say. “The Derrick I know was a real jerk, but he wasn’t criminal. He wouldn’t join up with a gang of thieves for no apparent reason, definitely not as someone preparing to be an inside man in the Indigo League. The Derrick I knew wouldn’t know how to expand a pokéball, much less be able to command Pokémon in a double battle.”

“Yeah, about that. I’m still waiting for my payment.”

I nearly topple over in my chair. “I didn’t lose!”

“No, you cheated. But we both know you were going to lose.”

“Sing is one of Blissey’s registered moves, officially approved in battles according to all rules,” I start to argue.

“Unless a specific exception is made that both parties agree to before the battle begins, blah, blah, blah,” Derrick finishes. “Don’t quote battle laws to me. I’m talking about the fact that you had your police buddies cart me off before the battle was properly finished.”

“That’s not cheating.”

“No, but it is cheating to go to a Pokémon Center and get all your Pokémon healed while the battle is on time out. I assume that little friend of yours did call time out? Because otherwise, oh dear, wouldn’t that mean that the police broke one of their own laws? That wouldn’t say, invalidate my arrest, would it?”

“You see, right there. How on earth do you know so much about the Pokémon world’s backwards legal system? You shouldn’t be arguing an obscure technicality about the legal sanctity of Pokémon battles, you should be demanding to know why no one read you your Miranda rights!”

For the first time in the conversation, Derrick drops his tough façade. “Who’s Miranda?”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, I see.” His expression returns to full on weasel. “You’re trying to mess with me. That’s cute. Real cute.”

I rise from my chair. “Ok, tell me this, then. What did you do after I left the foster home?”

Derrick smiles and opens his mouth as though he’s about to deliver a perfect comeback, but then his face clouds over with confusion. “What?”

“Come on, you have to remember at least one thing,” I prod.

“I… did… stuff. Look, it’s none of your business!”

“How did you get to this world?”

“What do you mean, how did I get here? That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard in my life!”

“Let me guess. Certain bits of memory mysteriously missing? Strange clothes laid out for you? A sense that some force was trying to get you to take on a certain role?”

“No. I didn’t get to the Pokémon world. I’ve always been here.” He mumbles the word, “Idiot.”

I sit back down. “You know what, Derrick? I think that is the first time in this conversation that you’ve told me the straight truth.”

I play it over again in my head, listening to the tone of voice, analyzing the smallest facial changes. I know Derrick too well to be pulled in by one of his lies. There’s always an obvious give away. He wants me to know when he’s messing with me, even when he’s pretending that he’s being nice. Besides that, he’s smarter than this. No, he must honestly think that this is the truth.

“Derrick,” I say. “I hope you realize that what you just said makes zero sense.”

“Does that annoy you?” he asks.

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Good.” He leans forward, crossing his arms on the surface of the desk. “That’s what I was made for.”

What he was made for? What does that even… Wait. I look down at the desk, wondering why the chains didn’t clink together when he rearranged his hands.

“Where did your handcuffs go?” I shout, jumping up out of the chair and back.

Derrick stands easily. “Handcuffs? Never had any.”

“Jenny?” I call out, backing towards the door, where I last saw an officer standing guard. “Jenny?”

No response.

Derrick runs a hand through his hair, spiking it back up, and puts one leg onto the desk, halfway between “cool pose” and “I’m going to vault over this thing in about two seconds”.

“Now,” he says, fixing his eyes on me with a look that makes me shiver, “about that battle.”


	32. Did Someone Call for a Psychic?

Derrick jumps over the desk. I back towards the door.

“Officer Jenny?” I try one last time.

Derrick smirks. “I don’t know who you’re calling, stupid. You won’t find a police officer anywhere but Pewter City. Weirdos.”

Has the damage spread so far? All the police officers are gone now, and, with them, all the work they did? No handcuffs on Derrick because no one ever existed to put him into them.

He takes another step forward, slowly, playing with me. I feel my back hit the doorframe, stopping me short. Then he lunges forward, grabbing hold of my wrist. I kick. Hard. He swears loudly, relaxes his grip. I pull away, dash down the short flight of stairs, but a pokéball flies out ahead of me, opening to reveal a large Kadabra blocking my path. Wait, a Kadabra?

“You will be joining me on the second floor for a rematch,” Derrick growls.

“What?” I ask, not able to believe my ears.

“You, me, second floor, rematch.”

“So, you’re not going to fight me here?” I slowly turn around, fortified by the knowledge he doesn’t have. Chica is still in critical condition. Chance is better but resting back at the Pokémon Center with her. Serendipity is trying to take care of them both. And Unicorn is inside a pokéball that is currently being repaired. If it’s a rematch he’s looking for, he’s going to be sorely disappointed. But I’m not telling him that.

Still at the top of the staircase, Derrick paces back and forth. “No, it has to be the second floor. It has to be.”

“Why?”

“It just does, ok?” He paces faster. “I should be up there. I should be up there right now.”

“What is wrong with you?” I ask.

“Get up here now!” he demands.

I climb just one stair and stop. “Or what? If you were going to come down here and drag me, you would have done it already.”

Derrick grimaces and puts his hands up to his head. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going, I’m going. Kadabra, teleport her there.”

He turns and sprints away as I stare after him in shock. A moment passes, and then I feel a gentle tapping on my shoulder. It’s the Kadabra.

“You’re the Abra that Derrick used in his first battle against me, aren’t you?” I ask. “You evolved. I mean, you evolved all the way into an Alakazam and then went back to the form before that evolution again?”

The yellowish creature nods her head once.

“How is that possible? How is any of this happening?”

Holding a metal spoon in her three-fingered hand, she gestures down the staircase, turning sideways to allow me room to pass. I can hear her clawed feet scratching against the stairs as she follows close behind me. It’s not far to go before we step out into the sunlight. I look towards the Pokémon Center, wondering if Chica is doing any better, and then, almost as if she read my mind, Mary Ann appears behind the sliding glass door.

Her eyes meet mine, but her expression doesn’t change, as if she expected to see me here. I get a goosebumpy feeling that reminds me of Sabrina as she crosses the short distance between us.

She already has something written on her notepad, but it’s blocked off by her hand until she holds it up: “Kadabra is reaching out to my mind.”

Goosebumps intensify. Well, at least she isn’t zooming her psychic powers in on me.

She flips the page to reveal more words already written: “She knows you’ve been concerned for her, and she wants to put your mind at rest. She feels acceptance, as though she feels that she is meant to be with Derrick, and also resolve, as though there is something she must do. I can’t read much more than her emotions, but I sense no anger or fear.”

“You can’t read her mind?” I ask.

Mary Ann shakes her head, flips to a blank page, and writes, “We don’t have the psychic link I share with Goran. Sabrina could, but I’m not powerful enough as a psychic.”

“Well, this is plenty powerful for me.”

Mary Ann smiles and flips backwards to more prewritten words: “She feels some kind of kinship with the three of us. This feels like a guess, but I think she knows something about what’s happening to the world.”

“If she knows anything that could help us, you should get Goran to come over here,” I suggest. “Let her speak with him, and then he can translate for us later.”

Kadabra shakes her head.

“No?” I ask in disbelief.

She shakes her head again. No.

Mary Ann shrugs. Flipping forward to a blank sheet again, she writes, “Anxiety now. Impatience?”

She stops, eyes widening. Her pupils dilate hugely and stop moving.

“Mary Ann?” I ask worriedly. “Mary Ann, are you ok?”

I look back at Kadabra. The eyes of her species are like right triangles stretched long down the sides of the face, the pupils tiny vertical slits without a colored iris. But Kadabra’s pupils are stretched out to a shape like the eyes of a cat. They are also frozen. Her body, already so strange to me as a non-native of this world of Pokémon, seems more like a wax statue than that of a living creature.

I don’t realize that Mary Ann has stopped breathing until I hear her gasp for air.

“Are you ok?”

Slightly doubled over, she takes in a few breaths more as she signs, “yes.”

Kadabra turns and runs up the stairs with surprising agility for a creature whose legs splay out to the side. I’m so stunned by that awkward grace that it takes me a second to respond.

“Kadabra, wait!”

I feel Mary Ann’s hand on my shoulder. “Let her go,” she signs, another phrase that I have learned.

“But she had something to tell us.”

“She told me. Sort of,” Mary Ann writes.

She holds this up for me to see, but instead of asking more questions, I patiently wait for her to continue.

“She used her power to merge our minds for a short time. She knows you have a connection to Derrick—“

I stop reading to scoff, “Connection? Hardly.”

“—and she wants to deliver a warning to you. Derrick is not who he appears to be.”

I come to the end of the page. “What?”

Mary Ann flips it and starts writing again as I wait impatiently. I suspected as much myself. He isn’t acting the way that he should be at all, but I don’t understand. Sometimes he seems like his old self, the same as always, but other times he seems like a copy of the rival character from the video games. And those weird things he said about having been made to annoy me? Or trying to force me to the second floor for a rematch when he could have just beaten me up instead?

She flips the paper up for me to read. “Derrick’s mind is divided, like there are two people existing in the same space. Only one is a full person, the other has the feel of a foreign personality imposed on him somehow. I wish I could explain better.”

I consider for a moment. “Do you think that something could have made him that way?”

“Yes,” Mary Ann signs, and quickly jots down. “More psychic stuff you probably won’t understand, but there was a sort of signature to it, like a powerful mind left behind a mark of its handiwork. It has to be the work of a psychic even more powerful than Sabrina.”

“A psychic more powerful than Sabrina?” I repeat. “Is that even possible?”

Mary Ann’s mouth twists with anxiety. “I didn’t think so,” she writes.

“So, wait, we’re really saying that a powerful psychic forced Derrick’s personality and some of his memories onto some second person here in the Pokémon world? So, as crazy as it sounds, he really was telling the truth when he said that he’s always been in the Pokémon world?”

Mary Ann writes again. “I guess technically he has. I don’t think that the real Derrick ever came to the Pokémon world at all. It’s like this psychic just lifted certain pieces of him and fused them into a real person.”

“Just reached out into the real world and—“

“Wait!” Mary Ann signs. She starts writing again feverishly. “No, I know what it feels like! It feels like someone made a copy of him from the memories that you have of him in your head. It took the one-dimensional picture you had of him when you were a child and used it to create a 'rival'. That’s what you keep calling him, right?”

I take in a deep breath.

“Are you ok?” Mary Ann signs. Then some other stuff, but all I can see is the word “sit.” So I do, leaning back against the cold granite wall that forms the base of Pokémon Tower.

Mary Ann reaches into her bag and passes me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I say. “I just feel really exhausted. I don’t know if my brain isn’t working anymore or if this is every bit as crazy as I think it is. Some psychic messing with my head, my memories?”

I pause to take a drink of water. I had only meant to have a little bit, but I’m surprised by how good it feels to have that cold liquid pouring down my throat. I drink long and deep.

When I’ve finally finished, I say, “I can’t even tell whether any of this is real anymore. Have I just gone completely insane? Thinking that someone is messing with my head, making things inside it real, thinking that this entire mess of a situation revolves around me… What if I never made it to the Pokémon world at all? I got hit by a bus or something trying to run off on my eighteenth birthday and all of this is just some crazy coma dream. Man, that would make a terrible story, wouldn’t it?”

Mary Ann laughs. “I think that only happens in lame soap operas,” she writes.

“Ok, so my life is a lame soap opera, then.” I laugh back. “That would be way easier to explain!”

“I know that it’s a lot,” Mary Ann writes, “but we can talk about it later, when we explain everything to Elliot. Right now, you really need to get some rest. You look completely pale.”

I get slowly to my feet. “Ugh, we need to figure out how to explain this to Elliot, don’t we? That is going to be a nightmare.”

“Why?” Mary Ann signs, looking confused.

“Because he’s going to understand it even less than I do. We’re going to have to spend forever trying to simplify it for him.”

Mary Ann frowns and signs something in reply, but I shake my head to show that I don’t understand. We’re walking towards the Pokémon Center now, so it would be a little difficult for her to write. She lets it drop, though, so I guess it wasn’t that important.

“Is it safe to go back to the Pokémon Center?” I ask.

“Why?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but all of the police officers did a vanishing act. What is Derrick going to do when I don’t show up to battle him? What about all those other Team Rocket members who were being held in the tower? Are they free now? Were they ever arrested to begin with? Maybe it’s not safe to stay here.”

Mary Ann takes my arm and guides me through the Pokémon Center doors. Elliot immediately jumps up from one of the couches in the lobby.

“There you are! Mary Ann, you took off so fast I didn’t know what was going on. Is everything ok? Oh! Unicorn’s pokéball! Nurse Joy fixed it while you were away. Just in time, I think, because as soon as she closed the little metal door thing inside it she got really weird and couldn’t remember what she’d been doing. And that was the same time all the Chanseys disappeared.”

“The Chanseys disappeared? What about Chica? They were supposed to be helping her!”

“Well, all the Chanseys except the one,” Elliot corrects. “Plus Serendipity, of course. And the back room where they’re taking care of her is still there somehow, even though everything else went totally canon.”

Mary Ann signs a question.

“Elliot means that everything else is exactly like what it was in the game.”

“Fire Red / Leaf Green again,” Elliot agrees. “Um, Mary Ann is saying that you should get some rest. I agree. You don't look so good. There’s a bunch of empty beds by Chica. Chance is still resting in there, too. I’m sure Nurse Joy wouldn’t mind.”

“But Team Rocket.”

“Oh!” Elliot says, his face lighting up. “They’re causing all kinds of trouble in Pokémon Tower right now, aren’t they! Those Pokémon are, what, level 20, 25? I can totally take that!”

He pumps his fist in the air.

“Elliot, this is serious!” I protest.

“No, I’m going to be totally awesome like you were at Silph Co. and save the day! It’s still early, right? Maybe I can stop something that happened before the game, just like how you made it so that Silph Co. never got taken over. I mean, Team Rocket’s already at the tower, I get that, but do you remember the story about Cubone’s mother?”

“What?” Mary Ann asks.

“Shoot, I hate it when I have to say that Elliot is right,” I grumble. “I really must be tired right now. Before the main character in the video game gets to Lavender Town, Team Rocket invade Pokémon Tower to steal the skulls from Cubone and sell them for money.”

Mary Ann looks horror struck.

“No, no,” I say. “Cubone is a Pokémon that always wears a skull on top of its head, so, like, they’re not chopping their heads off or anything, just taking off the one that they wear like a hat. But I guess it’s just like Farfetch’d’s stick. It’s something that they have to have, even though no one has any clue why.”

Mary Ann nods like she’s trying to understand.

“But this one Cubone in the tower was with its mother when Team Rocket came to try to steal its skull, and she attacked them. The game didn’t really say, but she must have fought with everything she had because in the end Team Rocket killed her.”

Mary Ann gasps.

“And if that hasn’t happened yet…”

“I’ll go right now!” Elliot zips out the door, only to turn around and step right back in. “Whoops!”

He takes a blue Lure ball out of his pocket, pops the button on the front, and tosses it to me. I catch it like a baseball, thankful that the finger print detectors did their job.

“Thanks,” I say, but Elliot is already gone. “I really hope he knows what he’s getting himself into.”

I know at some point he’s going to have to learn how to handle situations on his own, but, in the second before my head hits the starched white pillow of the hospital bed, I can’t help thinking that I really should be going after him.


	33. Can I Go Back to Sleep Now?

It feels like I only just feel asleep when a hand grabs onto my shoulder and shakes it roughly. I flinch away from it, my half dreaming mind sending me a picture of Giovanni just as my eyes pop open.

Elliot is red faced and out of breath. “Um, we have a problem.”

My mental gears reverse instantaneously. “Elliot, what did you do this time?”

I sit up, realizing that I never got beneath the sheets. I didn’t even untie my shoes before passing out.

“I didn’t do anything,” Elliot protests. “I was at the tower, and I was doing awesome! Team Rocket hadn’t even started bothering the Cubones yet, but I told one of the Channelers that I overheard them plotting it. I got all of them to help me out, and they were using ghost Pokémon and chasing Team Rocket all around, and we totally kicked butt!”

“Sounds wonderful,” I groan. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“No, no! There really is a problem. All of us together beat the Team Rocket people in Pokémon battles and chased them out of the tower. All except Derrick. He wouldn’t fight with any of us, but he wasn’t causing any trouble, either, just kind of muttering to himself like that crazy guy from the Lord of the Rings movies.”

“Gollum?”

“Yeah, that’s the one! Creepy little dude. So I said, ok, let’s just leave him right alone, then. But when I was coming back down the stairs after everything was over, he was actually talking to someone. She turned to look at me and then just ran away. She was wearing Team Rocket gear and everything, but she looked familiar. And I just realized why. It’s the same girl that you had that Smeargle draw in the police station today!”

Suddenly, I don’t feel tired anymore. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, brown hair, green eyes, a little bit of makeup, just like you described.”

I grab my hat off of the pillow where it got flattened and wrinkled by my head and look around to try to remember where I put my messenger bag. “We need to go. Like, now. Is Chica feeling better? Can you carry her in your bag like you used to do for Maria?”

I look over at the bed next to mine, trying to answer my own question. Chica is sound asleep underneath some kind of big sun lamp. Her skin is glistening like she’s covered in sweat, and I panic for a second before remembering that Chica is too much like a plant to sweat. When she gets hot, she wilts. The water must be part of her treatment.

As I look on, I hear a four-legged someone jumping off of the bed behind me. Chance walks up, covered in bandages himself, but looking at Chica with equal concern. “Jolt?”

Serendipity is passed out against a nearby wall, looking completely drained. I wonder how long she spent trying to take care of Chica last night. I return her to her pokéball with a mental note to have her healed at the machine in the front before we go.

The Chansey is nowhere to be seen. Do I dare to hope that the risk of serious infection has passed?

“Is it safe to move her?” Elliot asks.

Chica slowly opens a single eye, leaving the lid halfway closed so that not even the full oval of the red iris is visible.

“Chica?” I ask.

The eye opens further. She lifts her head just an inch. The crinkled brown edges of her leaf rustle against the pillows.

“I don’t know, Elliot,” I say, as if it were all his idea to move her. “Maybe Mary Ann could stay here with her?”

“Ka?” Chica’s head jerks fully upright. She tries to raise her leaf, but it only falls to the side of her face like a limp dishrag.

“Team Rocket doesn’t know she’s with us,” Elliot says. “It could work.”

“Ka!” Now Chica is struggling to her feet. I reach out to gently push her back down before remembering what Nurse Joy said about the risk of infection. I pull my hands back.

“Chica, you need to be resting,” I say instead.

She shakes her head even as her feet are wobbling.

“Chica, you wouldn’t be here right now if you had listened to me and stopped fighting when I told you to.”

She glares.

“You are not invincible, Chica. Even the legendaries need rest sometimes.”

Now she growls.

Elliot cuts in. “I hate to break this up, but we really need to go. If that girl was sent to find you…”

I nod. “I’ll leave a note for Mary Ann.”

Chica growls and tries to jump to the foot of the bed, but her weakness only makes her crash back onto the mattress. It makes my heart ache.

“She won’t be able to follow us.”

I’m sorry to have to win the argument like this, but I have no choice. Chica is too stubborn for her own good right now. I jot out a quick explanation and place it on the table holding the sun lamp. I toss the pencil back into my messenger bag and hitch it across my shoulder. Elliot is already waiting at the door, with Chance beside him. They step outside to make room for me as I close the gap.

“Aaah!” Chica howls. She whips her head down to her chest, grabs the chain of her Everstone necklace in her mouth, and begins tearing at it. She twists and jerks, pulling at it as though she’s trying to tear it straight out through the back of her neck. Delicate patches of new skin growth are rubbed raw in only seconds, oozing green in a thin band all around the tiny leaf buds that dot her neck.

“Chica, stop!” I rush back to the bed, and she falls back with a sob.

“Is that really what you want?” I ask quietly.

“We don’t have time.”

“Shut up, Elliot. Do you really think that you’re ready to evolve?” I repeat. “It’s not going to happen the instant you take off the necklace. It’s not going to heal your body any faster.”

Chica nods as if to say that she knows.

“If this is really what you want, I’ll take it off for you right now. But I just want to know that you’ve really thought this through and that you’re doing it for the right reasons. You’ve always loved being a Chikorita.”

She frowns sadly.

“I don’t want you to evolve just because you feel like you’re not good enough. All I want is for you to be happy with who you are. If that means evolving into a Bayleef, that’s awesome. But if you want to keep being a Chikorita, that’s awesome, too. You don’t have to be in such a hurry to grow up that you rush into something you’re not ready for.”

Chica is finally staying still now. My words must be having some effect.

“I really do have to go, but I will be safe with Chance and Serendipity and all of Elliot’s Pokémon, I promise you. And when you’re healthy enough to travel or as soon as it’s safe again, I’ll come back for you. I’m not going to leave you alone, ok?”

“Ah-ka,” she sighs.

I take the pencil back out of my messenger bag. “I’ll leave a note for Mary Ann about the Everstone. Take your time to think about it, and, if you’re ready, tell Goran what you want.”

Chica nods and falls back onto the pillows. She closes her eyes, tears watering her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

I replace the note on the table and walk out the door without looking back.

***

Night has just fallen when we exit the Pokémon Center with Chance on our right and Maria on our left. I would prefer to leave by stealth, but this town is both tiny and buried deep within the surrounding rock. The only ways out are the three narrow passes, leading to three perfectly straight roads. We will be seen no matter what, but Agent Devlin does have only the one Wobbuffet.

We can handle Agent Devlin easily if it comes down to a fight, but it’s not her that I’m worried about. It’s who she’s working for.

She doesn’t show herself as we take the western route towards Saffron City, but I know she’s seen us leave. Unless we spontaneously take up mountain climbing, she knows as well as we do that there are only two places we can go: Saffron City, where we’ll be recognized instantly, or the path that leads underneath it. I don’t know about you, but a dark tunnel sounds like an excellent place for an ambush to me. Either way, she has us like Magikarp in a barrel.

“What’s the plan?” Elliot asks.

“There is no plan.”

“No, there has to be a plan. You always have a plan.”

“Not this time.” I won’t give him anything more than that. It’s all I have. I’m emotionally worn, deprived of sleep, and truly out of options. I feel like I’m only delaying the inevitable. Team Rocket will catch up to me, and this time they’ll take down Elliot, too.

There are no trainers on Route 8, perhaps because the Fire Red / Leaf Green games had no concept of night. Left to their own devices, I imagine most trainers would head back home to go to bed, and I do see a group of trainers walking ahead of us off in the distance. Regularly stationed battlers along this route or travelers like ourselves, I don’t particularly care as long as they don’t bother us.

“Who is this girl?” Elliot asks me as we turn a corner to walk around the large patch of grass where wild Pokémon might be hiding.

I’ve told Chica all about her, but I haven’t said a thing to Elliot. I remember that perfectly well. When you make a habit out of hiding things, you become exceptional at remembering exactly how much you have told to every person that you know. No, I had failed to tell Elliot on purpose, but I had to change that now.

“Her name is Agent Devlin,” I explain. “She’s the one that they assigned to guard me.”

“Is she powerful?”

“No. Her only Pokémon is a Wobbuffet named Clara. And she’s not high up with the Rockets, either, although she wants to be. She thinks that she deserves it, and, actually, she’s a lot smarter than most of them. If she hasn’t come after us yet, she must be on her own. I’m betting she’ll go straight to Giovanni and take all the credit for finding us. She doesn’t care about much of anything unless something’s in it for her.”

I take a deep breath in and out, trying to clear my head of the memories of conversations with her in that little cell.

“She seems really big to you,” Elliot says carefully. He studies my face as if he’s trying to detect something there. “Did she do anything to you?”

We come to the end of the patch of grass and turn to head back to our original course.

“No,” I reply. “Just guard duty.”

“Really?”

“She really wasn’t the type. She’s not sadistic, just cold. Look, you have to understand that I didn’t have anyone else for company. They even took the Pokémon away from me. It was talk to her or talk to no one. She was always there, and there was nothing else. Nothing else for a whole week. I’m not going to just forget about that.”

“Ok,” Elliot says softly. “Well, just so you know, I called Dr. Clark. There are still police in Pewter City, and he promised to have them be on the lookout.”

I sigh. That’s really not going to help.

In the silence that follows, I notice that Chance is turning his head on an almost constant sweep, fur raising defensively at even the most distant sound. Part of me wishes I could tell him that’s not necessary, but the other part is grateful for feeling just a tiny bit safer.

“Well, at least we won’t be running into Derrick for a while,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

“Why do you say that?” Elliot asks curiously.

I explain what Mary Ann told me about his divided mind. “So there’s a part of him that’s the Derrick from my memories, but the other part is, well, it has to be the original rival character, right? Because he’s acting a lot like the rival from the video games, even though it seems like he doesn’t always want to be. It was like he had to go to the second floor of Pokémon Tower just because that’s where the rival is supposed to be.”

“So, you’re saying he’s going to just stay there?” Elliot asks.

“Or randomly appear in the next place where he’s ‘supposed’ to be. But I already faced him in Saffron City.”

“Um, this is really weird, but ok. I guess it makes sense. It’s like he’s got multiple personality disorder, and his two personalities are fighting?”

“I guess you could say that. It’s not right, but I guess you could say it.”

I reach into my messenger bag and pull out a sweater. It’s the same light blue color as the top I normally wear but warmer and with long sleeves. Even though it’s the beginning of May, it’s a little bit too chilly this late at night.

Elliot spends the rest of the night trying to cheer me up, but it all just whizzes past my ears. I feel dead on my feet by the time we reach the Saffron City Pokémon Center. We crash right there in the lobby, on a couch and a reclining chair, not even caring. The last thing I do is call out Serendipity to take over as watch, but Chance refuses to return to his pokéball. I’m too tired to argue with him.

In sleep, the nightmares come again. Agent Devlin and Jodie. For some reason I’m trying to protect Jodie. I wake up with a confusing jumble of images in my head to find Nurse Joy and half of the population of Saffron City staring down at me. They just heard me screaming in my sleep, didn’t they? From all those worried looks I'm getting, I'd say yeah. Yeah, they did.


	34. The Trick

“Are you alright?” a woman asks anxiously. She’s bent halfway over, looking down at the couch where I’m lying. Others crowd around on all sides, so thick I can’t see whether Elliot is still in the recliner he fell asleep in last night, but this woman’s face catches my eye.

“I know you,” I say. “You were wearing a dress with polka dots on it. The one who lives across the street from the Silph Co. building.”

“That’s right! Hilda! You remember me?”

“Yeah.” I start to sit up.

“If everyone could please step back,” Nurse Joy says.

“Make room! Make room!” Hilda waves her arms in a shooing motion, pushing back the eager crowds of onlookers.

Nurse Joy steps into the empty space. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” I sigh. “Just a nightmare, that’s all.”

“But why were you sleeping in the Pokémon Center lobby?” Hilda asks.

“Because we didn’t have anywhere else to go.” I swing my legs over the edge of the couch so that my back isn’t resting against the arm.

“Nowhere else to go? But you’re the hero who saved our city! You are always welcome here! Come back to my house and rest, I insist.”

“Oh no, I really couldn’t,” I protest.

Hilda places her hands firmly on her hips. “I’ll have none of that nonsense. Of course you can!”

“I wouldn’t argue with Hilda,” laughs a man near the back of the crowd. She’s as stubborn as a Tauros, and just as tough!”

Well, if it’ll get my “adoring public” off my back… “Alright, but only if you’ve got room for a Jolteon.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Elliot asks from some unseen location.

“And a sixteen year old idiot,” I add. Nicely.

“The more the merrier!” Hilda beams. She shoos everyone out of the way again, and nearly yanks my arm out of my socket in her enthusiasm as she helps me up.

“Jolt!” Chance barks, and a crowd of disappointed little kids backs up to let him through. But not without a souvenir. I hear a little girl with just one pigtail snicker as Chance tries to shake off the little blue bow tied around his ear.

I can’t help but smile. “I told you being famous is a nightmare,” I whisper to him.

“Feeling better?” Elliot asks when we meet up again.

“A little,” I admit. “How long was I asleep?”

“Only half the day,” Hilda says. “It’s nearly one pm.”

One in the afternoon? We’ve lost so much time already.

“Listen, Hilda, we can’t stay long.”

Hilda shakes her head as we wait for the glass doors to slide open. “Are you really in such a hurry that you can’t stay here in Saffron for a little rest? You must be worn out from all those adventures you go on.”

“What adventures?” I ask, wondering what she’s heard about me.

Hilda chuckles. “You’re so secretive that no one really knows, do they? But I’m sure you must be having some.”

She turns to lead the way, and I relax a little, slowly pulling back until I can talk quietly to Elliot. “We have to keep moving if we don’t want Team Rocket to catch up to us.”

“Team Rocket?” Hilda whirls around.

Well, I thought I was far enough back to be able to talk just to him.

“Are you saying there are more of them still out there?”

“Kind of.”

“Those brutes! Don’t they know when to leave well enough alone? Well, you won’t have to worry about them here. Sabrina will take care of us.”

Elliot and I exchange looks.

“You doubt?” Hilda asks. “True, Sabrina could not prevent the last attack, but she was not herself. Her psychic powers are back and even more powerful than before! Especially when it comes to Team Rocket. She made a vow to this town to never let them interfere again, and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.”

Hilda speaks of Sabrina with obvious pride, but her words spark my memory. The last time we spoke, Sabrina told us that things were going to be different for her from that point on. She blamed herself for the attack and said that she was willing to do whatever it took to protect her city, even if it meant sacrificing her ability to see the slow deterioration of her world.

“Can we see Sabrina?” I ask.

Hilda sighs. “Not unless you challenge her to a gym battle, I’m afraid.”

“Perfect,” Elliot says. “That’s just what I intend to do.”

“Elliot, this is hardly the time.”

“And when is? We need that badge.”

He looks at me meaningfully, clearly unwilling to say any more in front of Hilda, but I see his point. Victory Road is still the best clue we have, and we’ll never get there without Sabrina’s Marsh Badge.

“You didn’t happen to catch a ghost at Pokémon Tower, did you?”

“Um…”

“Of course not. Why would you plan ahead?”

“Hey! I won’t have any fighting in this house,” Hilda says, pushing open her front door. “You all come in and have some lunch, and you’ll feel much better. Everybody grumbles on an empty stomach.”

She leads us straight into a little kitchen, sparsely decorated in true video-game style. There are just two chairs, but she insists that Elliot and I sit down while she goes to fetch a little blue stool from the living room for her own use. She serves us watercress sandwiches and iced tea and chats away, giving us all the local gossip. She insists that we both have seconds, then follows up with a plate of fresh baked cookies.

“You can’t leave until you try one of these,” she says. “Tell me which is better, the oatmeal raisin or the chocolate chip.”

Just when I’ve decided that she intends to keep us here forever, there’s a knock at the front door.

“Oh, good, they’re here,” Hilda says, clapping her hands together happily. “I thought they’d never come for you.”

Chance stops munching on his bowl of Pokémon food and jumps to his feet. I think he’s got the right idea. In my head, I’m already calculating how difficult it would be to dive out the little window above the kitchen sink. Elliot would never make it, but maybe I can lead enough of them away?

My hand dives down to my pokéball belt just as Hilda opens up the door. I blink. The two men outside aren’t wearing Team Rocket uniforms. They’re dressed as if they’re on their way to some kind of a party. And they’re smiling in a way that actually looks friendly.

“I warn you, she may be very uncooperative,” Hilda jokes.

“Oh, I think we can handle that,” one of the men jokes back.

“You have got to be exaggerating, Hilda,” says the other, a man a little older than the first. “No one would really hate having a ceremony in their honor. She must be modest.”

“No, I’m really not,” I say, standing up from the table.

“Nah, she’s just crazy,” Elliot says, smiling. “I’ll go to this ceremony thing! Sounds like fun!”

“Glay!” Maria agrees, jumping up onto his lap.

“There’s no way I’m getting out of this, is there?”

“Nope. Resistance is futile!” Elliot scoops Maria up in his arms and jumps out of his chair. He brings the Glaceon up to his shoulder with one arm and swings his drawstring bag over his back with the other, allowing her to climb into her usual position nestled inside. I can hear her rumbling purr from here.

“Oh, good, I always wanted to become a mindless drone,” I mutter, but I follow him out the door.

“No running away now,” the younger man jokes. “Hilda threatened to kill us if we let you escape.”

“Hm,” I say, observing the way my “guards” are sauntering along several feet apart from each other and nowhere close to me. “You don’t seem to be trying very hard at something that your life depends on.”

“We don’t have to,” the older man says. “If you’re the big hero Hilda says you are, you won’t run off knowing how utterly and completely Hilda will murder us, will you?”

“Oh, Samuel, stop it!” Hilda laughs. She hooks her arm around his, and they continue walking side by side.

Very quickly, we’re surrounded by a crowd of people, all walking in the same direction. They turn to look at me and whisper to each other.

A little boy runs up to me. “Can I see your Chikorita? Please?”

I feel like someone’s kicked me in the chest.

“Maybe some other time,” Elliot tells him.

“Why?”

“Chica isn’t feeling good today.”

“Oh.” The boy thinks for a few moments. Then he rushes off without another word.

“Is something wrong?” the younger man asks, falling into pace with me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you should,” Elliot argues. “Come on, you were starting to do better. You can’t stop talking about things all over again.”

“I can do whatever I want, Elliot.”

I wish I wasn’t penned in by this crowd. I wish I wasn’t surrounded by people who would stop me if I tried to leave. I don’t want to be having this conversation right now. My eyes move left and right, looking for gaps between the people just so that I can imagine squeezing through them and making my escape.

“But you promised,” Elliot says. “You said that you were going to stop hiding things.”

I stop scanning the crowd and whirl on Elliot. “I made that promise to Chica. And she’s not here right now, is she? There wouldn’t be a problem if she were. So you can just shut up.”

The young man from Saffron takes a step back, the smile faded completely from his face. I feel bad if I upset him, but not bad enough to apologize when I wasn’t even talking to him. The three of us fall silent.

Up ahead, Hilda and Samuel are chatting to each other like nothing happened. Probably they didn’t even notice. I catch snatches of their conversation, but the sound of the crowd has grown into a steady roar. I don’t know where they found all of these people. Saffron isn’t in full Fire Red / Leaf Green mode yet, but close enough that the population should be nowhere near this size. Did word spread to the surrounding cities, too?

We walk out into the area in front of Silph Co., where the battle between Derrick and I took place. There are streamers hanging from the windows of the skyscraper, balloons tied at the front corners of the houses to the left and to the right, and, somehow, with what must have been just a few hours to work with, they’ve constructed a large wooden platform with a podium and a microphone hooked up. Behind it stands a professional-looking man in a suit and tie, Sabrina herself sits with all the grace of a queen in a humble folding chair to his right, and, at ground level, the registration man from her gym is clutching his clipboard and gesturing to me frantically. There’s an empty chair next to Sabrina.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to get up on that stage looking like you’ve just swallowed a lemon,” Elliot says.

I’d like to make a snide remark, but I catch sight of the man from Saffron, still looking a bit troubled. I sigh instead. “Do you think I have no manners?”

We stop walking. I close my eyes for just a second. Then I do something that makes the registration man’s face fill with relief. I walk right up to him of my own accord.

He directs me to the chair set up for me, and I sit, listening with far too much patience as the president of Silph Co. welcomes everyone to the grand celebration and makes a big speech about how Saffron City remains strong in spite of the challenges it has faced, slips in some things about the great technological innovations his company has produced under the guise of calling Saffron a leader in industry, and finally swings around to crediting mayor and gym leader Sabrina for all that she has done to defend what is apparently nothing less than a little slice of paradise.

The people roar out their approval, but, as soon as Sabrina steps behind the podium, it falls more silent than I ever would have believed possible for a crowd this size. Sabrina speaks into the microphone, but does not raise her voice. She speaks so quietly that people at the back should be straining to hear, but her voice echoes with that same strange resonance that it had the first time that I met her. I can hear the words inside my head as well as in the air, as if they’re carried on something more than sound waves. They penetrate.

Sabrina does not use grandiose language or praise the greatness of Saffron and its people. She does not speak like a politician, maneuvering around issues and trying desperately to make herself look good. And she does not waste any time.

“Saffron City does not owe its gratitude to me,” she says. “For I was only carrying out my civic responsibilities. You have selected me as the leader of your gym and the mayor of your city because my Pokémon are strong and my mind is capable. And so I have done no more than should be rightfully expected. Yet there is one who had no obligation or responsibility and chose to offer her assistance. In so doing, she and her Pokémon both prevented Team Rocket from infiltrating the very building that we stand before and ensured their lawful arrest. The girl with the Chikorita, as she is called, deserves our thanks.”

And still all is silent, as if the crowd is held by a magical spell. Sabrina smiles her small smile, takes a step back from the podium, and gazes out calmly as the crowd bursts into applause. This time, there is no cheering or whistling or shouting of any kind. The sound is applause of the purest form, hundreds of hands clapping together, and, slowly, the crowd rises to its feet.

Sabrina tilts her head down, just slightly, but the applause is already dying now. She walks back to her chair as the president takes the podium once more.

“We of the Silph Company also extend our gratitude to the girl who achieved the extraordinary. On behalf of our company, please accept this token of our appreciation.”

The registration man steps on stage to hand him a little box, which the president opens. He holds up the contents proudly as the crowd oohs and ahhs. It’s a pokéball decorated in purple and pink instead of red, with a large white “M” just above its button.

“This Master Ball will catch any Pokémon in the world without fail! It is our only working prototype to date, and we are proud to present it on this occasion.”

The president turns to the side and takes a step back. He’s looking at me.

I heave in a deep breath and step up to the podium. I see Elliot standing in the first row of the crowd, throwing me a thumbs up. Hilda and Samuel stand next to him, smiling happily.

“Mr. President,” I say. “Thank you for your kind words. It’s an honor. Really. But I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”

The crowd gasps. In the front row, Hilda and Samuel stand open-mouthed. Elliot slices a hand back and forth across his throat. And shocked silence transitions into angry muttering. That was a mistake. Even I can feel it.

“Alone,” I add quickly. “I’m afraid I can’t accept this alone.”

Mouths close. Silence falls.

“It’s true that I did all of the things you said, but I never could have done them all alone. My friend Mary Ann took news of the attack on the company to Sabrina, who teleported the police officers into the city after fighting back and winning the battle that took place at her own gym. And my friend Elliot was with me every step of the way. I couldn’t have done it without him, and so, I invite him up to the stage now to accept this honor with me.”

Applause again. I sigh with relief. I don’t deserve it, but at least now they don’t think I’m being rude. However much I hate this, it’s clear that they would take it as an insult if I were to decline their offer.

Elliot climbs right up onto the platform, not bothering to walk three steps around to use the stairs. In the meantime, Sabrina steps forward. I yield the podium to her gladly, going to stand next to Elliot.

“And on behalf of the citizens of Saffron City,” she says. “We would also like to present this Lapras.”

She holds her right hand in the air, palm facing up, as though she’s holding something only she can see. Then, in a flash, the familiar red and white of an ordinary Pokéball appears, floating inches above her outstretched hand.

“This is a rare Pokémon that I sense is precisely what you require. Since its capture, this pokéball has never been touched by human hands. When you accept it, it will be as if you yourself achieved that capture.”

“You take it,” Elliot whispers.

“Are you sure?” I whisper back.

He nods.

The president and Sabrina step forward. The president makes as much a show as he can about presenting the Master Ball to Elliot. I hold out my right hand, and Sabrina teleports the ordinary pokéball directly into it. Somehow, that feels much less showy. Practical and direct. For a psychic.

Elliot holds the Master Ball high up into the air, perfectly mimicking the victory stance of Pokémon anime character Ash after a successful capture. I can’t keep myself from making a face, but I hold up the ordinary pokéball anyway, with my palm open just like Sabrina.

When the applause dies down, Elliot steps up to the microphone. “Thank you, Saffron City! You guys rock!”

The president chuckles to himself as he and Elliot trade places. “And now, there will be a celebration! Enjoy music, food, dancing, and a wide variety of contests, battles, and entertainments throughout the city provided by our best and brightest trainers!”

The crowd begins to disperse. The president walks towards the stairs, but before Sabrina can follow, Elliot calls out to her.

“Sabrina, can we talk to you?”

She looks at him coldly. “No.”

“No? But Sabrina—“

“I must return to my duties.”

“Will you speak with me if I challenge you to a gym battle?” he asks.

“I do not accept your challenge,” Sabrina says.

Elliot looks shocked. “What? But you can’t do that! Why?”

“I have no wish to participate in a battle in which there is no challenge. If you wish to win the Marsh Badge, return when you are ready.”

She turns towards the stairs.

“But I am ready,” Elliot protests.

She turns back. “I have foreseen your defeat. It is all but certain.”

“All but certain? Well, that means there’s still a chance, doesn’t there?”

Sabrina sighs. “I tire of this conversation.”

Without another word, she teleports.

“Where did she go?” Elliot asks, looking around as if he can catch some sign of her in the air.

“Give it up, Elliot,” I say, shaking my head. “She doesn’t remember us, and she’s not going to help. We’re on our own now.”


	35. Sweep

At least what Hilda told us about Sabrina’s change appears to be true; it is keeping Team Rocket out of the city quite effectively. Elliot sent Kyu up into the sky to search for any signs of them and report back, and every time the Farfetch’d returns with nothing but a shake of the head. Perhaps we really will be safe here. Elliot can spend time training, I can puzzle out our next move, and Mary Ann can bring Chica as soon as she’s well enough to travel.

As we weave our way through the crowded streets of Saffron, I’m painfully aware of how much I miss having my Chikorita at my side. Chance is here, his burns now completely healed thanks to Burn Heal medicine and Serendipity’s care, but I miss my first friend and companion.

“Girl with the Chikorita! Girl with the Chikorita!” The young boy I met earlier today uses his small size to squeeze through gaps in the crowd without slowing a single step. He stops right in front of me and holds up a folded-over piece of paper. “I made a get well card for Chica! I made it green because I thought that she would like that. Will you read it to her later?”

I can’t believe my eyes are tearing up. “Yes. I’ll make sure she gets it. Thank you.”

He smiles, revealing a gap where one of his baby teeth has fallen out. “Can I pet your Jolteon?”

“You can if it’s alright with him.”

“His name is Chance,” Elliot tells him. “And this is my Glaceon Maria. You can pet her, too if you want.”

He gestures towards the bag on his back where Maria has been riding, offering to let her down so the boy can reach her.

The boy looks up at the Glaceon’s icy fur and the dark blue portions of her head that resemble a winter hat with flaps dangling. “Nah. Jolteons are better.”

Chance snorts with laughter, and the boy takes this as an invitation to comb his fingers through the long white fur at the base of his neck.

“You know, you’re the same age as my little brother Kyle,” Elliot says.

“Does he live here in Kanto?” the boy asks.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. It would have been cool to meet him. I wish I had a hero for a brother. Mine’s just a baby, and all he does is eat and cry.”

“I still remember when Selena was a baby. She’s the youngest in the family. Everyone still treats her like it, too, but she’s growing up fast. I’m sure your brother will, too.”

The boy moves on to petting the yellow fur along Chance’s back. “I don’t have a brother.”

“Then, why did you just say you did?” I ask.

“No, I didn’t.”

As soon as I hear those words, I get a sinking feeling. And I realize that even though we’ve been standing still in the middle of one of Saffron’s main streets, it’s been a long time since any of the people attending the celebration have bumped into us or asked us to step aside.

“Elliot?” I ask uneasily. “Does this crowd of people look like it’s getting smaller to you?”

Elliot’s eyes widen. “Not here, too.”

“Well, it’s not as if it was going to stop, is it? It does tend to expand rather predictably.”

“Hilda? And the others?”

“I don’t know.”

“We have to look for them.” Elliot starts walking down the street. I walk after him, Chance walks after me, and the little boy makes a sound of disappointment.

“Sorry, there’s something really important we have to take care of,” I explain to him. Then I say to Elliot, “And if we find them, what are we going to do then? There’s no way to protect them against this.”

“Well, we can’t just stand here and do nothing. Do you understand what just happened here? That thing just killed a baby!”

“What!” An entire group of people who happened to be walking past spins around. “What did you just say?”

Shoot, shoot, shoot. Gotta think fast. “Um… It’s a metaphor?”

Some look relieved, but a gray-haired woman glares at Elliot sharply. “Well, it was in very poor taste.”

They walk away.

“Elliot, you’ve got to control yourself,” I say.

“Control myself? How can you expect me to control myself at a time like this? Any one of these people, anyone who doesn’t fit could—“

“I get your point, Elliot,” I say, cutting him off. No babies in the video games. No racial diversity. No characters like Hilda or Samuel or most of the other people we’ve met here today. They're all going to be swept away like garbage.

I curl my hand into a fist, wishing I could use it on someone.

“It’s a circle,” Elliot mutters. He pulls out his cell phone and quickly punches up something that looks like a map. Then he turns and runs back to the boy we just left, who’s set his eyes on a nearby stand giving out cotton candy advertised to be “as fluffy as the wings on a Swablu”.

“Hey, kid,” Elliot says. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to go to the north east corner of town. Ok?”

“Why?” He turns around but doesn’t leave his place in line.

“I can’t explain, but can you just trust me? You need to go there right away.”

“But I want cotton candy.”

I look at the stand, trying to see how quickly the line is moving. Can we afford to wait if it will make him agree? Maybe I could offer to stand in line for him. I know it’s just one kid, and I know it’s only a temporary solution, but Elliot’s right. If we can help just one person, keep him far enough outside that expanding circle…

Then I blink and the cotton candy stand has vanished. All I see is an ordinary yellow house with a mailbox standing next to it. The stand was set up right there in front of it, and now it’s like it never even existed.

“What did you just say?” I ask the boy shakily.

“I said, what’s over there? Is it one of the battle competitions? I wanted to go see the one with Karate Master Koichi, but I guess there’s nothing over here.”

“Yeah, there’s tons of fun stuff in the north east corner,” Elliot lies. He’s still facing away from where the stand was. I don’t think he’s seen it yet or put together all the pieces.

“Which way is that?” 

The boy takes a step forward. A step towards the south, I realize. And then he disappears.

***

Everyone disappears. Little by little, Elliot and I watch the life and vitality drain out of Saffron City until it's left with the bare bones. We couldn’t find Hilda in time. No one else would listen to us.

Elliot and I have been wandering around the city streets aimlessly. There’s no place left for us to go.

“And I thought that seeing Vermillion City was bad,” Elliot says sadly.

I’m quiet for a moment. “Elliot? Do you think this is my fault?”

“What? No. How could this be your fault?”

“Because Sabrina told me I have the key to all of this, and I didn’t listen to her. And I haven’t been trying very hard to find the memory she mentioned or to figure out what I can do to put a stop to this. I’m the only one who can, and I’m letting down an entire world by being selfish.” I close my eyes and sigh.

“Hey,” Elliot says, “you’re being too hard on yourself. You have been getting somewhere, really.”

“And you and Mary Ann and Chica have had to drag me every step of the way. You were right earlier. About the promise I made to Chica. I didn’t just promise to stop hiding things from her. I only promised to stop. And I just broke that promise, even though you already know what happened to Chica and you already know how upset I am about it. I never thought I would break a promise, especially not a promise to her. And so easily. What is wrong with me?”

Elliot avoids my eyes.

“I need to get better, don’t I?”

“You don’t need to,” Elliot says finally. His eyes finally focus back onto my face. “But I think that it would make you happier.”

“Well, sure,” I say. I imagine letting go, just letting go of all the fears and worries, trusting Elliot and Mary Ann, letting myself believe that everything is going to work out for the best. “It would definitely make me happier for a while, but what about when everything falls apart again?”

I’ll be unprepared, and it will hurt. It will hurt more because I will know that I should have been able to see it coming.

“It’s not going to fall apart,” Elliot argues.

I snort. “Sure, you say that now.”

“What exactly do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“See, there’s nothing to worry about.”

I just shake my head. “Do you want some trail mix or something?”

Elliot smiles. “Good old trail mix.”

“Oh, and I suppose you ate so much better when I wasn't around? I could make you go find your own food, you know. I would laugh to see you try to cook something in a frying pan over a campfire.”

I reach inside my bag for the bags of trail mix, certain that I put them right on top after Hilda generously offered me the ingredients I needed to replenish my stock.

“You think I don’t know how to cook?” Elliot asks. “I’ve cooked for my family before.”

“I hate to break it to you, but pouring milk on top of cereal does not count as…” My hand bumps up against a piece of paper. I don’t remember leaving anything like that in there. Forget about the trail mix; I pull out what turns out to be a small envelope.

“For you,” it says in perfect cursive underlined in a gentle swoop straight down from the tail end of the “u”.

“It has to be from Mary Ann,” I say out loud.

Elliot leans over. “That’s definitely her handwriting.”

The envelope’s flap is tucked inside, unsealed. I push it up until it’s free, then reach inside.

“I’m writing this so that it will be ready at a moment’s notice,” it reads. “I don’t know when that will be, but Sabrina foresaw that I’ll be coming with you on your journey and that, someday, you and Elliot are going to need what is inside this envelope. She said that she would give it to you herself, but she doesn’t know how long she will be able to hold on to her knowledge of the terrible things that are happening in this world. She’s afraid that she won’t be able to remember that she needs to give it to you, and it has to be delivered at exactly the right time. 

“I don’t really know what any of this means, but she gave me a sign to watch for. If you’re reading this now, I suppose it must have happened and that you’re separated from me now. Sabrina knew that would happen, too. I hope our journey together was a good one and that we’ll see each other again soon. I guess I must think of you as a friend by now, even though as I’m writing this I’ve barely met you! Psychic powers are weird sometimes, aren’t they? Good luck and best wishes on the final leg of your journey. Your friend, Mary Ann.”

I open the envelope a little wider and peer inside. There’s another smaller piece of paper, but what catches my eye is a tiny golden disk with a circle around the center.

“Elliot, there’s a Marsh Badge in here.”

“What?”

I hold it up between my thumb and pointer finger. He doesn’t move.

“Woah. So that’s…”

“The second badge in a row that’s just been handed to you?” I finish.

“Well, yeah.” His cheeks flush a little pink. “But that’s going to cut down our time by, like, a whole week. We don’t have to wait around here anymore while my Pokémon get stronger.”

“And now we have a Lapras,” I say, just realizing what that means.

“We’re going to Cinnabar Island!” Elliot says, punching his fist in the air. “I’m going to win my seventh gym badge, and then I’ll just have one more left, and we’ll finally be able to go save the world! We have to get started, now!”

For once, I actually agree with him. Even though he’s forgetting about Agent Devlin and Giovanni and the whole of Team Rocket and way overestimating his abilities, I can’t shake out of my mind the things I’ve seen today. We need to put a stop to this. Whoever the supposedly really powerful psychic is who’s behind all this, I hope they know I’m coming for them. I’ll play hero all they want if it means I finally get to take them down. Even if it means facing my worst memories. I’m ready for that now.

As Elliot jabbers on, making wild predictions about how cool and awesome everything is going to be, I pull out the last little bit of paper stuck inside the envelope, already pretty sure I know what it’s going to be.

Sure enough, Mary Ann hasn’t forgotten about my promise of five real answers to her questions. The first one has already been covered, but, if I know her, she’s going to use the four that she has left very wisely.

I unfold the paper carefully. The number 2 is circled at the top, clearly making it official. I have to read the sentence below three times before I can believe it. Not about Derrick, not about what happened when I was kidnapped by Team Rocket, not even a question about my days in foster care. No, what Mary Ann asks is, “Why are you having these nightmares?”


	36. How to Train Your Magikarp... Or Not

How did Mary Ann even know about the nightmares? I wonder as Elliot and I stand on opposite ends of the trading machine in the Pokémon Center. I always kept them hidden. And there's no way I could have woken her up in the middle of the night by crying out in my sleep.

 

I pull out Serendipity's pokéball and toss Elliot a smile. "Are you ready to get serious about training?"

 

"Bring it on!" he replies. "Who do you want to trade for?"

 

"Whoever is going to be the most useful to you against Blaine, of course," I say, naming the gym leader of Cinnabar Island.

 

"That's gotta be Alma," Elliot replies immediately. "She's the highest level, and ground types kill fire!"

 

He whips the fourth pokéball out of his belt and pops it open excitedly. I open Serendipity's a bit more carefully, reaching for the wire to connect to the interior with my other hand. As I plug it in and wait for the machine to do its job, my mind wanders back to Mary Ann.

 

Is it some aspect of her psychic powers? I know she said something about being able to sense emotion weakly, but she really hasn't seemed that good at it. Unless she's just been hiding it from me?

 

"Elliot? This might sound like a weird question, but has Mary Ann ever, like, read your emotions?"

 

"You mean like, knowing that I must be happy because I'm smiling?" he asks.

 

"No." I sigh. "I mean like, something that's not obvious."

 

"What's not obvious?"

 

I frown. Of course. Elliot is an open book. An open book with emotions stuck on "happy".

 

"Initiating transfer," the trading machine reports in a smooth voice.

 

I take my right hand off the scanner in front of me.

 

"Mary Ann is pretty cool, though," Elliot says, taking off his hand as well. "I think you'd like her a lot if you got to know her better. I think she just sneaks off so much because she's going through a hard time right now."

 

"Oh." Her parents. Of course. Why haven't I noticed that in her behavior? It's obvious to Elliot.

 

"I can't imagine how I would feel if my parents died," Elliot says sympathetically.

 

I wonder if that's why her emotion sensing has been off? Too caught up in her own feelings to be able to deal with anything else? I've been there.

 

"Trade complete," the machine reports.

 

"Awesome!" Elliot says, snapping the wires out of the tiny socket in Serendipity's new pokéball. He turns it towards her, and she disappears with a flash of red light.

 

"She won't be used to returning a pokéball that releases her straight on, just to warn you."

 

"Hey, I'm the one who suggested that move, remember? We'll figure something out. Anyway, it's just until my Pokémon get enough of an experience boost, right? I mean, I'll do the same thing for your Pokémon, too, but it's not like it's forever. We don't even know that this will work the way that it's supposed to."

 

"It'll work," I say. "If not now, at least when one of the other zones catch up to us. The Gold and Silver one, maybe. It seems like game mechanics get included more and more with each video game version we go down. A Pokémon received in a trade has got to level up more quickly in at least one of them."

 

"Alright, so who do you want next?"

 

"You're the one who's supposed to be coming up with the strategies here. What else are you good for as a trainer?"

 

"Alright, alright, fine. It's just that I can't decide between Harry or Maria. If Harry evolves into a Gyarados-"

 

"Harry is not going to evolve into a Gyarados," I interrupt.

 

Elliot frowns. "How do you know that? Harry is a perfectly good Magikarp."

 

I snort. "Yeah, that's the problem. He's too good of a Magikarp. Weak and stupid."

 

"Well, that settles it then." Elliot pulls out the pokéball in the first slot in his belt and tosses it out.

 

Maria turns to him with a happy smile. "Glay!"

 

"Good. Now you're seeing reason," I approve.

 

"I was seeing reason all the time," Elliot counters. "I'm not trusting Harry's training to someone who won't believe in him."

 

I pull out Unicorn's newly repaired pokéball and start connecting the wire. I can feel the Seaking watching me from the holding tank nearby. He's probably not too happy with me right now, but it's not my fault he hasn't been able to come out in so long.

 

"Cheer up," I tell him. "We're going to be surfing all the way to Cinnabar Island when this is over. Plenty of water out there for you to swim in."

 

He stares back at me as if to say, "Yeah. Salt water."

 

So he won't be able to swim right by our side for the entire trip the way that Harry will be able to. He'll still be able to stand it for short periods of time. Noting that Elliot has fixed up Maria's pokéball as well, I place my hand on the scanner one more time.

 

How am I going to answer Mary Ann's question? I wonder. I could describe them easily, explain in detail exactly what they are about. But she didn't ask "what". She asked "why". And not "why are you having nightmares?". The answer to that one would be easy as well. I'm having nightmares because I've had a really rough time of it and my anxiety levels are through the roof over everything that's still going on.

 

No, she wants to know why I am having these nightmares in particular. Why do I keep dreaming about Agent Devlin? Why not the boss of the base, the man who kidnapped me in the first place? Why not Giovanni, the leader with a heart of ice who could, and maybe has, signed an order for our deaths without blinking an eye? And why dream of a foster sister I barely knew and didn't even like?

 

To answer Mary Ann's question at all, I'm going to need to search within myself. I sigh. Well, that is what I said I had to start doing, isn't it?

 

Hearing my sigh, Elliot asks, "Is something wrong?"

 

"Nothing," I say automatically. A pause, and then another sigh. "Everything."

***

"Let's start out with a Quick Attack, Maria," I say.

 

The Glaceon sizes up her opponent, a brownish worm with a bright red mouth and a dinky little horn on its head, slips into a crouch, and takes off in the next second, dashing straight into its midsection.

 

"Weedle, use String Shot on it!" orders the young bug catcher who challenged me.

 

As soon as the worm regains its balance from the Quick Attack, strings of white spider web-like material shoot out of its mouth and stick in Maria's fur, pulling back the flaps below her ears at an odd angle but otherwise doing no clear harm.

 

"You can handle this, Maria. Just practice your Quick Attack as much as you want until it's fainted. Try to see if you can get it faster. Oh, and throw in a Sand Attack to start with, there's some good dirt here."

 

"You sound confident," Elliot remarks.

 

"It's a Weedle."

 

"You can't always tell that a Pokémon is weak based on what kind it is," he argues.

 

"You're only saying that because of Harry."

 

"Oh, speaking of!" Elliot turns straight around and locks eyes with the nearest trainer. "I challenge you if you've got a Pokémon that can swim in that pond right over there."

 

"I... I have a Squirtle," the kid offers. 

 

I don't know if he looks intimidated or just surprised, but Elliot smiles confidently in return. "Perfect."

 

"Now this I've got to see," I say to Chance, who's standing next to me watching his sister's performance.

 

One Sand Attack down, and she's crouch, run, crashing into the Weedle again.

 

"Poison Sting," I hear my opponent tell his Weedle, but I don't even turn around. Chance will bark at me if she gets poisoned. I've got Antidotes.

 

Elliot marches up to the pond and walks around all the way to the far side of it, letting the kid dressed in green take the side that's closer to where he started from.

 

"On the count of three," Elliot announces, perhaps unnecessarily as I bet the kid knows how to start a battle, no matter how young he looks. "3, 2, 1!"

 

True to his word, the kid in green sends out a pokéball containing a Squirtle, who seals it into a bubble and floats it back into his trainer's hands. Harry the Magikarp plops into the water with a clumsy splash, and his pokéball sinks down to the bottom. Elliot's smile flickers.

 

"Hey, a Magikarp!" the kid says excitedly.

 

"That's right, kid, you've totally got this one in the bag," I say, knowing perfectly well that Elliot will be able to hear me.

 

"No, I was going to say that's really cool!" the kid approves.

 

"Seriously?"

 

Elliot's smile returns. "I think I like you, kid."

 

"My name's Ricky," he says. "Here, why don't I have my Squirtle dive down and give you your ball back before we start the battle? It's only fair."

 

As soon as Squirtle hears the plan, it's already ducking its blue head under the water. It paddles its little turtle legs right down to the spot where the pokéball is shining red, picks it up in its mouth, and swims back to the surface. It deposits it neatly on the shore as Elliot watches in amazement.

 

"Thanks!"

 

"Battle starts as soon as Squirtle touches my side of the pool?"

 

"You're on!"

 

Squirtle floats in the water up to the white line connecting the top and bottom halves of his shell, stroking swiftly across the surface. Meanwhile, Harry is flicking his tail back and forth and grinning like an idiot. I didn't know Magikarps could grin with fish faces like that, but that's one big grin if I ever saw one.

 

Squirtle taps the edge of the pond with an outstretched hand.

 

"Great!" Ricky approves. "Now, use Water Gun!"

 

Squirtle opens his mouth wide.

 

"Dodge it, Harry!"

 

The Magikarp turns to stare at Elliot blankly, just as the column of water shooting from the turtle like Pokémon's mouth pushes down through the surface and knocks him back into the wall. He reacts by flopping around pathetically.

 

"Dodge means move!" Elliot says. "Come on, I know you can do it."

 

"Jolt!"

 

I turn back to the battle I'm supposed to be involved in and see the Weedle lying on the ground.

 

"Good job, Maria. Any of the poison get you?"

 

The Glaceon is panting a bit, but she shakes her head.

 

The bug catcher returns his Weedle and throws out a second pokéball angrily. "Come on, aren't you going to even try to pay attention?"

 

He's just brought out a second Weedle. I raise an eyebrow. "Do I really need to?"

 

"This Weedle is better than the other one."

 

"Ok, then. Maria, show me that Quick Attack."

 

Crouch, dash, leap. The Weedle is bowled over instantly.

 

"You're getting more power behind it now," I approve. "Keep it up."

 

A short distance away, I hear Elliot's voice getting louder. "Tackle it! Tackle it!"

 

Harry sits in the middle of the pond, completely motionless. Squirtle appears to be doing a lazy backstroke.

 

"Tackle it!"

 

The Magikarp blinks. Then it swims up to the top of the water, a bit faster than its normal pace.

 

"Yes! Yes!" Elliot pumps his fist in the air. "Tackle the Squirtle!"

 

Harry reaches the surface of the pond, jumps up... and comes back down with tiny splash.

 

"Magikarp, karp, karp. Magikarp, karp, karp," he says, bobbing up and down happily.

 

"Tackle," Ricky says simply.

 

Squirtle flips off of his back, and I turn away. There's a big green caterpillar instead of a worm on the opposite side of the battle field now.

 

"Oh, did you win again already, Maria? Nice one."

 

The battle is easily won from there. Elliot's is, too, once he finally gives in and switches Harry out for Kyu. If game mechanics are operating here, the two Pokémon will split the experience points. Personally, I think it's a bit of a waste to take half the points away from a perfectly good Farfetch'd in favor of a useless Magikarp, but try telling that to Elliot.

 

I think I see something in the forest just before Kyu delivers the finishing blow, but in the next second I lose sight of it. I wonder with a chill if Agent Devlin is waiting for us to let our guard down far enough to launch a sneak attack, but I have no way of knowing if I'm right.

 

There aren't any other trainers in this area with water Pokémon, so the rest of our battles go much more quickly. I'm thankful for that. As much as I try to think of it as a training exercise, I still just don't like battling.

 

"I don't get it," Elliot says as we walk towards the gatehouse leading to Vermillion City. "How are you so good at something that you hate?"

 

"Because I have the practice."

 

"But you just started your journey not too long ago, and you always go out of your way to avoid... Wait, you mean that you used to play the games so much that you know all the moves and tactics."

 

I frown. "No, I mean working in Koga's gym taught me a thing or two."

 

We step into the gatehouse and nod to the guard on duty.

 

"Well, ok," Elliot says, as soon as we pass through, "but you did like playing the games, didn't you? You admitted it yourself. Why do you always act like you think they're stupid?"

 

"Because they are," I reply. Then I grimace. "I didn't really mean that. I sound like Derrick, don't I? I guess... I guess I just talk like that to keep people like him off my back."

 

Elliot looks around the nearly empty city that we now find ourselves in. "But it's just me here."

 

"I know. It's just a habit. I don't know; it feels safer, ok?"

 

Elliot smiles. "You know what I think? I think that as long as you're trying to deal with all this stuff, you should loosen up and admit how much you like it here. Let yourself have a little fun for a change, like me."

 

"You want me to have fun?" I ask.

 

"Yes! Fun is fun. That's why they call it fun. You should try it sometime before you forget how to smile permanently."

 

"If you mean that I should run around making a fool of myself, it's not going to happen," I warn. "I have plenty of fun. Just different fun."

 

Elliot shakes his head. "Different fun."

 

"Yes. Now let's go heal our Pokémon and head down to the docks." I turn and start walking towards the Pokémon Center.

 

"You want to leave already?" Elliot asks.

 

"No time to lose, is there?" I remind him.

 

"Well, sure, but..." He snaps his fingers. "I have an idea!"

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Come on, Miss 'Different Fun', I'm going to show you how it's done." He laughs at his own rhyme, pops Maria back into her pokéball, and takes off running.

 

I look at Chance. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"


	37. Fun and Nightmares

I follow Elliot all the way down to the docks. He finally slows to a walk when he steps onto the long wooden bridge leading out to the tiny island that the S. S. Anne is docked at. He walks about halfway out, then stops, looking out over the ocean.

 

I try to follow his line of sight. "Elliot, what's—?"

 

And then he pushes me in. I bend my right leg to prevent myself from going under, but I feel the cold ocean water all at once. I yelp.

 

"Elliot, I am going to kill you!"

 

My first action is to pull off my messenger bag and toss it onto a nearby rock, thankful that everything inside is currently in energy storage. I can feel my clothes getting heavy, my shoes especially. I wonder if they'll be magically restored to me if I kick them off and let them get swept away by the ocean current. It worked for my messenger bag, but do I really want to risk it? Yes, yes I do. It is way too difficult to swim in tennis shoes.

 

I've only managed to kick off the left one when Elliot lets out a whoop and cannon balls in. If there was any part of me that wasn't soaked already, it definitely is now.

 

When Elliot rises back up to the surface, he smiles at me. "See, now this is—"

 

I pounce on him and duck his head under the water. "Were you about to say 'fun'?" I suggest, knowing he won't hear me until I let him go.

 

He comes up spluttering but breaks into yet another smile. "See, I think someone's working through her anger issues?"

 

"The only person I'm angry with is you." I take advantage of an incoming wave to splash even more water in his direction.

 

"Ok, if you say so. But if you really want to get me, you're going to have to catch me," he teases.

 

I take my dripping hat off of my head and slap it down onto a rock. "It is on."

 

He climbs up over the rocks forming a barrier around the harbor, drops down onto the other side, and goes into a front crawl. I follow him up into the rocks, where I stand for a few moments, giving him a head start. Then, with a smile, I reach a hand down to my pokéball belt.

 

"Cheater!" he cries as I sail up to him perched neatly atop my brand new Lapras.

 

"Well, if that's cheating, then this must be, too. Water Gun."

 

"What? N—!"

 

A blast of water carrying significantly less force than a normal Water Gun attack hits him right in the face. I laugh as he reels back, spitting water out of his mouth.

 

Once he can speak again, he says, "Ok, now how did you know that Lapras has that attack?"

 

"Um, it's a water type? It's a pretty good guess."

 

Elliot nods. "Right. This has nothing at all to do with the hours on end you spent playing those video games. Or watching the t.v. show? I bet you loved some Orange Islands when you were younger."

 

"Is that the one where they sailed around on a Lapras all season long?"

 

"Oh, come on, don't play dumb," Elliot says, treading water. "There's nothing wrong with that. It's healthy to admit that you enjoy something."

 

I frown, resisting the impulse to reject this idea offhand. Does trying to be better mean that I actually have to consider things like that?

 

"Quit being so stubborn and climb aboard," I say finally, patting an empty spot on Lapras's rough gray back. "We don't actually have all day to goof around when Cinnabar Island is waiting for us."

 

Elliot finally grabs hold of one of Lapras's curved blue fins and hauls himself up. "Well, sure, but we're already part way there now. We can just keep going!"

 

I look at him.

 

"What?"

 

"I left my bag on the rocks. And you left yours, along with your shoes and, apparently some of your clothes, on the dock."

 

"Oh."

 

"Idiot." But I say it under my breath, and, for some reason, with a smile.

***

We're forced to leave Chance behind. I hate to do it, but with Elliot and I both on Lapras's back already, there's just no room. If only I hadn't lost his pokéball.

 

He whimpered when I told him that he would have to go back to Lavender Town and meet up with Mary Ann and Chica. Since Elliot has Kyu running through a strict training regimen, this is also the only way we'll be able to get a message to them for a while. They'll know how we are, but we won't hear anything from them, not even a verification that Chance found them alright. The last image I have of is of the Jolteon walking slowly down the docks with his tail between his legs.

 

Lapras has not said much since I let her out for the first time. I have no idea what her history is or how Sabrina managed to capture her, but she seems perfectly content to let Elliot and I ride on her back for hours at a time. She just swims on, every once in a while turning her long giraffe-like neck around as if checking to see that we're still here.

 

Elliot has decided that we should name her Mystique. I wanted to argue, just on principle, but she responded to the name suggestion with a burst of sound like a more beautiful version of a whale's song. And so she has decided for herself.

 

Harry has been swimming alongside us for hours. Unicorn joins sporadically, for as long as he can stand it. "As long as he can stand it" really meaning as long as it takes before he gets annoyed enough to shoot Elliot in the eye with Water Sport. His aim is surprisingly good. And Elliot never refuses to return him.

 

He is still trying to get through to his Magikarp, though. Whenever Unicorn was out of his Lure ball, Elliot would use it like a floating dodgeball, throwing it over and over again to try to teach his stupid Magikarp how to move away from an incoming attack. If it ever missed, it was by random chance or Elliot's terrible aim, but he insists that Harry has actually gotten it a few times. Sure. If you say so, Elliot.

 

Meanwhile, Kyu is spinning loop-the-loops and cutting into dives so long that he skims the surface of the water just before pulling up. He's also been called upon to do Lure ball retrieval more than just a few times, using the stick held in his beak like a golf club to hit it back to us when it's gone too far out of reach. Unicorn couldn't be bothered to retrieve it anymore after the fifth time.

 

Now, Elliot has just called Unicorn out again and is trying to talk them into fighting a practice battle against each other. Unicorn seems to share my opinion on the usefulness of such an exercise and is stoutly refusing. Harry doesn't seem to understand.

 

I yawn, wondering how much longer it can be until we reach the Seafoam Islands, where we had planned to stop for the night. It's already been dark for quite a while now.

 

Even as I do so, Kyu comes in for a landing. Elliot stretches out his arm like a falconer's, but the Farfetch'd rejects it in favor of the top of his head. He stands on Elliot's scalp, fluttering his feathers proudly, then folds in his wings and sits right down.

 

"Kyu, my hair is not a nest," Elliot mutters.

 

"D!" Kyu replies, sounding out just the final letter of his name so that it seems like he's saying, "duh"!

 

Then he wiggles in place and messes up Elliot's hair some more. A lesser trainer would knock him straight off, but, then, I suppose Elliot might just be afraid of getting whapped with that big stick of his.

 

I yawn again.

 

Elliot turns to me, making the gesture as natural as if he's completely used to wearing a duck-like Pokémon as a hat, and says, "You can fall asleep now if you want to. I'll make sure you don't fall off the Lapras."

 

"I'm not afraid of falling off the Lapras," I protest. Then I stop. Actually, I kind of am. "But thanks. Maybe I will."

 

I've been thinking about the dreams all afternoon and evening, so I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise that another one hits as soon as I slip into unconsciousness.

 

I'm running again, but I run through the deserted streets of Fuchsia City this time. Everything is black and white, nothing but empty pixels as far as the eye can see, except for her: Agent Devlin, after me to the bitter end. She grins, but her focus is a little to the left.

 

I gasp. In the back garden of my old house, Jodi is up on her tiptoes, stretching up to try to brush her fingers against the wings of an impossibly colorful Butterfree hovering above her.

 

"Jodi, leave the Butterfree alone!" I shout. I hurdle over the fence and scoop her up into my arms.

 

"Butterfly!" she protests, squirming so much that it's difficult to keep running.

 

"It's a Butterfree," I correct.

 

"No, it's Butterfly!"

 

Butterfly...

 

"The Seafoam Islands at last," Elliot announces.

 

Mystique glides right up to the sandy beach and floats in place, patiently waiting for us to disembark.

 

"Butterfly," I mutter as I step into the shallows.

 

If Elliot heard, he must be too tired to comment. He falls straight onto his back on the sand and is out like a log.

 

Of course, Butterfly is a name for a Butterfree. It's what I named my Butterfree. Not that I've ever had a real one, but back when I was playing Pokémon Blue. It was my favorite one.

 

And then I realize that, in a weird way, Jodi is just like I was. Was I ever really that innocent and carefree? The kind of girl who would have gushed over the beauty and power of a real live Lapras, let's say? The kind of girl who would never have had to be tricked into having fun?

 

And the kind of girl who would be as weak and helpless as a Magikarp without its scales, I add bitterly. If she wasn't so stupid, I wouldn't have to spend so much energy protecting her. But if "her" is "me", then... argh! I'm too tired to deal with this tonight.

 

I materialize my sleeping bag and flop it down on the sand next to Elliot. I'm about to crawl inside and hope against hope for some real sleep when I stop. I look at Elliot, look at the remote control for the messenger bag still in my hand, and groan. I materialize a pillow and stuff it under his head. And then I add a blanket to top it all off.

 

"I must be getting soft," I think.

 

I pull out Mystique's pokéball and return her with a thank you. She deserves the rest, but the thought of being without a Pokémon keeping watch when I'm still on Team Rocket's hit list is just too unnerving. I call out Maria and Alma, who seem to understand my wishes without even needing to be told. Alma starts digging at once, piling up the sand into a huge mound that Maria then climbs on top of to get a better view. Our own mini lookout point.

 

Probably no one even knows we're here. Probably there's no way Agent Devlin could have followed us out to a little set of islands in the middle of the ocean. Probably.

 

But the fear is enough to make the nightmares come back again. And this time, the face that I see is not Jodi's, but a younger version of my own.

 

"I have to protect her," I think as the pack of wild Houndour encircles us. I back her (myself?) up against a tree trunk and spread myself in front as a human shield. "They have to attack me instead. I'm stronger."

 

And, off in the distance, Agent Devlin laughs.


	38. Fishing for Answers

The next day, as we’re riding on Mystique, Elliot asks, “If Jodi always reminded you of yourself, why did you hate her so much?”

The water and bird Pokémon are at their training routines again. Maria and Alma are tucked away inside their pokéballs after a night of keeping watch and battling off wild Pokémon that stumbled onto our impromptu campsite. The sea is as wide and blue as ever and completely empty. I finish spreading sun block on my arms and pass the bottle to Elliot.

“She didn’t always remind me of myself, I only just realized that,” I correct.

“Well, sure, but doesn’t that mean that she did all along and you just didn’t know it?”

I stare at him.

“What?” he asks. His hand pauses halfway through rubbing sun block onto his nose. “Did I miss a spot?”

“No. For once in your life, I think you might actually be right.”

“Score.” He smiles.

“So, why did I hate her, then?” I ask for him. “I guess it’s because she was weak.”

“Um, not to be mean, but aren’t all little kids weak?”

“No, I mean like really weak. Like, she had to have her nightlight plugged in before she could go to sleep and she cried if some kid made fun of her at school just one time and she was upset if our foster parents were ten minutes late to her ballet recital. I mean, she was just so girly and giggly and chatty and…”

“Happy?” Elliot suggests.

I stop. “That sounds awful, doesn’t it? Was I really just… just wishing that my life could have been like that?”

Elliot turns to look at the ocean so I can’t see his face.

“And I was angry because she had all the things that I could never have and could be all the things that I could never be?”

“You could be happy if you wanted to be,” Elliot argues. His voice sounds strange, but I still can’t see his face.

“Not like that I couldn’t. I had to grow up and face the facts. I had to get strong so I could stand up against the likes of Derrick and independent so I wouldn’t care when they moved me on to the next foster home and –“

“I meant you could be happy now.” Elliot finally turns, and his face is like a mask: serious and sad, like the deep sadness that doesn’t make you cry but makes your heart feel small and cold.

“It’s too late now,” I say, reaching to take back the bottle of sun block, hoping that it will distract him enough to throw him off course and end the conversation here.

“No.” He pulls the bottle back so I can’t get a hold and looks at me until I stop reaching for it and stop to really listen to him. “It’s never too late to be happy.”

***

It’s only after another hour or so of watching the waves that I realize a meaning behind those words. That little girl who played with a make believe Butterfree and hummed songs to herself and imagined that the world was a nice place where everything would work out all right if she was only good and patient isn’t truly gone. She’s still inside me. In the little games I play with Chica, in all the things I do to help Elliot, in all the wonder that this world of Pokémon secretly fills me with every single day.

She’s there in all the things I don’t want to admit, and it’s in not admitting to them that I keep her protected. I am myself, the strong one, the one who’s learned to take a beating like none other and still come out alive, and it’s her that I keep locked away inside because I can’t afford to let her out and I just can’t bear to let her go.

So then, is that what I’m afraid of? Is the thing behind my nightmares a fear that my walls are going to come down to reveal that fragile little part of me, only to have her smashed to bits? All this talk of going back into the past to find the key, of breaking down defenses and trying to open up, will it really only lead to this?

Well, anyway, I have an answer that’s good enough for Mary Ann and nothing else to do on the back of this Lapras but write it down. When I’ve gotten myself a nice, full letter, I suddenly get an idea.

“Hey, Mystique?”

The Lapras turns her head and fixes me with gentle eyes.

“Will you help me catch a Wingull?”

She dips her head silently.

“Thank you.”

“What are you doing?” Elliot asks nervously as our “boat” makes a sharp turn off course and speeds forward swiftly.

“Catching myself a messenger.”

“Gull! Gull! Gull!” A flock of Wingull scatters in every direction. All except one, who pops out of the waves with a fish propped in his beak.

“Water Gun,” I order.

The blast knocks the fish right out of the Wingull’s beak.

“Gull!” it cries in protest, then switches into anger. “Winnn…”

With a screech it flies up into the air and dive bombs at Lapras’s head.

Elliot ducks, covering his head in alarm. “Can you not battle it with our ride?”

“I’ve got your Glaceon and Sandslash with me. Either of them suit you better?” I ask. I know fully well that the answer is “of course not”, so I charge right ahead. “Let’s try a Body Slam.”

“Body Slam? Are you crazy?” Elliot grabs onto Mystique’s neck for dear life as she surges forward.

But the Lapras strikes like a snake. As soon as the Wingull dives again, she stretches her long neck up to its full height, swings down, and bops it with her head. It falls into the water, where I quickly launch a Lure Ball.

“One, two, three shakes and caught!” I announce proudly.

“Good for you,” Elliot announces as if, somehow, he doesn’t completely mean it.

Whatever. I reach down into the water, pick up the floating pokéball, and toss it right back out. Wingull pops out with a screech.

“Win! Wingull! Gull!” It screeches at me again and again and again.

“Um, I’m really sorry I interrupted your lunch?” I guess.

Another screech.

“Ok, I’m guessing you didn’t exactly want to get caught.”

The seagull-like Pokémon glares at me sullenly.

“Ok, I get it, but if I give you a free lunch now and promise to release you after you get back, will you deliver just one letter to Lavender Town for me? Please?”

“Gull,” it says, suspiciously.

“And if you say no, I'll let you go right now. You can take me at my word. Seriously. Ask the Seaking over there.”

“Wingull?” it asks in Unicorn’s general direction.

He pops up to the surface and engages in a quick conversation with the bird, who finally falls silent. He wings his way over to Mystique and lands on one of the small raised areas of her hard seashell-like back.

“Gull.”

He accepts the fish that I graciously offer him from the lunch I had prepared. After I scrape the “sandwich” part off of it. I guess Wingull aren’t so much like seagulls after all. A real seagull would never be so picky when it comes to free food.

I curl up the letter I wrote and tie it to his leg. As I watch him take off into the sky, I somehow find myself beginning to feel a little better.

“Alright, do we want to see if we can catch up to some of those guys?” I ask, pointing to the retreating Wingulls. “It might give Kyu a chance to practice some of those fancy flying tricks of his on a real target.”

***

By the end of the day, Kyu, Harry, and, alright mostly Unicorn fighting for Harry after Elliot has switched him out, have gotten into so many battles that I’m starting to believe Elliot might actually be able to pull this off. Potions are working like magic today, too, bringing back all the Pokémon to full health in the first minute after the application of the medicine.

Actually, that worries me a bit. Out here in the middle of the ocean, it’s hard to tell whether our surroundings are in the almost-normal Fire Red/Leaf Green state or whether we really find ourselves in a rapidly expanding Gold/Silver Zone. Either is bad, but the Gold/Silver zone is the one that had such a strange effect on Elliot’s battle with Koga. Will he be able to handle conditions like that against a gym leader who’s even stronger?

It’s just as Cinnabar Island appears in the distance that the Wingull I captured returns, flying directly past my face with a loud squawk. Once I finally convince him to land, I untie the thick bundle of paper on his leg. Setting it aside, I reward him with two more fish that I had Mystique help me catch this afternoon. I put them into energy storage in my messenger bag immediately to keep them fresh. They rematerialize exactly as if I had caught them five minutes ago.

Wingull gulps them up eagerly, seeming to enjoy this meal quite a bit more than the cooked and de-sandwiched fish I offered him earlier. Then, true to my word, I release him, turning his pokéball towards myself, pressing the button once to expand and once to open, and pressing the tiny button inside, almost completely hidden. A blue beam shoots out at once, covering the Wingull from head to toe. This will undo the pokéball’s claim on him, the otherwise imperceptible thing each pokéball adds to a tiny bit of a Pokémon’s rematerialized structure in order to prevent other pokéballs from capturing a Pokémon that already belongs to someone else. It's a bit like removing an invisible bar code. Then, I take the pokéball in both hands and make the customary symbolic gesture of snapping it in half.

“You’re free now,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

He squawks once more and flies away. I’m dying to read the letter, but Mystique is just swimming up to the beach now. Cinnabar Island is tiny, just five buildings total crammed together very tightly. What I call a beach is really just an area of dirt next to the Poké Mart. A patch of dirt with a perfectly straight edge.

I start to step off of Mystique’s back and into the shallows, but my foot only sinks deeper and deeper. I go in up to my knee before I pull back. I think for a second, then give Elliot a light shove. He promptly tumbles into the water.

“Oops,” I say lightly as I jump off of Mystique’s back and directly onto the shore.

Elliot resurfaces, and I reach out to offer him a hand.

“Just an experiment,” I explain.

“Oh,” he says, “is that what you call payback?”

“Tell me, is the island floating?”

“No,” Elliot replies, “the edge of the island goes straight down all the way to the bottom of the ocean, as far as I can tell. Like the wall of a building.”

“Huh. Well, that’s odd.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Here, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” I offer and cut him off before he can say anything else, “and don’t complain! It’s more than you offered me.”

“Yes, but I was trying to show you how to have fun,” he argues.

“Good, I’m glad you found that to be fun,” I counter.

“Alright, alright. I get your point. Where do you suggest we go to spend the night?”

I pause to thank Mystique once more and return her to her pokéball. “Well, we could sleep out here on the grass, but I think we could at least give Pokémon Mansion a try.”

Elliot claps a hand to his head. “We’re going to have to find the key to the gym there before I can challenge Blaine, aren’t we?”

“Well, that is how it happened in Fire Red and Leaf Green, which is obviously the area we’re in right now. Actually, now that I think about it, we’d better hope the island doesn’t revert back to the way it was in Gold and Silver, or we’ll have to be travelling all the way back to the Seafoam Islands for your gym battle.”

“Great, just great,” Elliot mutters.

“Well, think of it this way. At least your Pokémon will get plenty more experience battling off all the rats and such. Aren’t old abandoned buildings fun?”

“You’re going to keep using that against me, aren’t you?” Elliot asks.

“Only forever.” I toss him a clean set of clothes and take off running. I shout over my shoulder, “race you there!”

“Let me guess,” Elliot shouts as he speeds up to follow me. “Races are fun!”

“You’ve got that right!”

My superior speed, conditioning, and, ok, fine, my head start, all allow me to be the first to burst through the burned-out doorway of the mansion. Huge glass chandeliers coated in dust hang from the high ceiling, white marble pillars with chunks carved out line both sides, and light streams in through enormous but completely broken windows. The floor is covered in bits of marble, broken glass, and other general debris, but I sweep a small area clean with my foot and sit down right there in the entry way.

Elliot rushes in a second later, looking both wet and tired.

“Alright,” he huffs, “if I admit that this was fun, will you stop trying?”

He walks off in the direction of the nearest room, presumably to change. I’m willing to bet that he’ll run into a wild Pokémon or two along the way, but he’s got the Pokémon to handle himself. I should be safe this close to the entrance, but, just in case, I call out Alma. The Sandslash looks around and, for some reason, starts using her long claws to sweep together the rock fragments lying about. Gathering ammunition for some kind of rock attack?

I shrug and pull out the letter from Mary Ann.

“It’s great to hear from you!” she writes. “I’m surprised your Wingull was able to find us, since we’ve had to leave Lavender Town, and in quite a hurry. The room where Chica was being treated started shrinking. I knew that it was going to disappear, and I didn’t know what other changes were going to come after. Goran, Chica, and I are heading back to Saffron City, where I at least know Sabrina and Nurse Joy.

“You’ll be happy to hear that Chica is well enough to travel again, though she’s still not fully recovered. She’s very upset and missing you terribly, but I’ll get back to that part later.

“We’ll try to meet up with Chance if possible, but if he’s headed back to Lavender Town through the forest, I don’t know if we’ll run into him at all. I’m sorry to hear that you had to part ways. I know you must be missing him right now, too.

“I know this entire situation has been hard on you, but I’m glad you’ve started searching within yourself. I think that what you’ve said about how you feel connected with Jodi in a way makes sense, but it brings me to what I’m going to make into my third question. #3: If you used to be a lot like Jodi, when was it that you changed?

"And, finally, please believe me when I say that opening yourself up will not mean that part of you will be destroyed. It will let her come out again."


	39. Meltdown

"Will you run Kyu and the others back to the Pokémon Center again?" Elliot asks. "Serendipity can hold off anything that comes for us in the meantime."

 

I groan. "Elliot, it's times like these that I really wish you had a better sense of direction."

 

But I reach out my hand and accept the pokéball Elliot hands me before walking off towards the exit. Really, though, I suppose I have no one but myself to blame. If I could just remember the way to the room in the basement where the key is, we wouldn't need to do all this searching in the first place. As it is, it takes a complex series of turns combined with the pressing of buttons to open specific sets of doors before I can work my way out, but my excellent sense of direction serves me better than my memory of a task I completed a single time while playing a video game years ago. I'm not perfect in everything, though it probably seems that way to Elliot.

 

The glowing red eyes of the nearby Mewtwo statue are creepy enough that I am glad to flip the switch on the pedestal that will shut them off and open the doorway I need to go through on the floor below in the process. At the same time, the thick sheet of metal slides out to block off the room where Elliot is standing. He's going to be trapped there until I flip the switch again. He must really trust me, which I find astonishing. I wouldn't.

 

I continue to the stairs, broken floor tiles crunching underfoot. Down the stairs, turn left, right, walk through the doorway, right again, and so on and so on. Really though, I think of it in terms of north, south, east, and west. I need to get to the staircase on the southern side of this floor, head down, and go out the entrance that stands at the far south. No matter how much I get turned around, that's a piece of cake.

 

So I let my thoughts wander as I walk, remembering the final part of Mary Ann's letter. Really, though, this part would be more properly referred to as Chica's letter. She dictated an entire page to Goran, who translated into sign language for Mary Ann to write to me.

 

"I'm so mad at you I want to come right over there and Razor Leaf your face! But I miss you so much it makes me cry," she said. "And I'm so scared that I'm never going to see you again. I'm scared that those Team Rocket monsters are going to take you away and hurt you, and I'm so far, far away I can't protect you.

 

"Chance promised me he would take care of you! And now he left you, too. Serendipity's too nice. She just kept trying to tell me that everything would be ok and not to wear myself out because rest is important. She can't protect you the way I can. And Unicorn's a fish. You find another way to keep yourself safe or I am going to kill you!"

 

She ended on the sentence: "Why did you have to leave me?"

 

I sniffle, wiping my eyes with the back of my arm to avoid smearing dirt and grime from my hands all over my face. I miss Chica, too. I want to wrap her in my arms and stroke her velvety skin as I tell her that I'm never going to leave her again.

 

She's going to come back to me, I tell myself. And then we'll always be together. Always...

 

"Here," I sob as I shove the pokéballs across the Pokémon Center's counter.

 

"Oh, dear!" Nurse Joy says. "You look as though you need some help."

 

"I'm f-fine," I manage to say, but even I don't believe it. Always together. We'll always be together.

 

"I can't believe I abandoned her!" I cry.

 

Nurse Joy walks out from behind the counter swiftly. She touches my arm gently, trying to guide me towards the lobby. "Here, why don't you take a seat?"

 

I follow her like a child being led by her mother. The first chair we come to is a plush blue recliner. I sink deep into its softness, pull my knees up to my chest, and hide my face in them. "I will never be able to forgive myself!"

 

"Hey, now," Nurse Joy says softly. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

 

Eyes closed, knees against my forehead, I can't see her, but I shake my head as the tears fall onto my bare legs. "Yes it is! I'm just like... I'm just like..."

 

Nurse Joy says nothing, but I know that she's still there.

 

"I'm just like her!"

 

And then I don't even know what I'm thinking anymore. I just completely lose it.

 

Nurse Joy does her best to comfort me as I sob and sob. All I can focus on is the pain. My heart feels like it's on fire, burning alive and never crumbling into ash, tortured by flames that only grow stronger with the passage of time. The tears dry up, and my breath still comes out in sobs, choking sounds that repeat again and again until I feel a pain in my stomach.

 

Long after all of this has surpassed an unbearable amount of time, this is the state in which Elliot finds me. I'm no longer sitting up but curled tightly into a ball with my head flat on the seat cushion. Hidden behind the double barrier of my knees and my closed eyes, I hear only the sound of something small and metallic clattering to the floor (the key to the gym?) and then his voice.

 

"What happened?"

 

"Oh, good," Nurse Joy says with obvious relief. "You know this girl? She came in sobbing, and I just haven't been able to do a single thing to help."

 

I feel a shift as Elliot sits down on the slim edge of cushion my legs aren't occupying. "What's wrong? Please tell me what's wrong."

 

"I n-need to go back for Ch-ica," I sob.

 

"Why?"

 

"And Mary Ann. I need... to see her."

 

"Why?" he repeats.

 

I take a deep breath and force myself into a sitting position, opening my eyes as I do so. "It's all t-trying to come out. And I just... I just can't leave Chica like that. I can't be like her."

 

"Like who?" I can see now that Elliot's face is flooded with concern, but I can see something else just around his eyes, almost like panic.

 

"Like my mother!" I wail, flinging myself back down again with a fresh bout of tears I didn't even know I had in reserve.

 

"Alright. Alright. Ok," Elliot says. "Whatever you want, ok? I can win this badge without you. And then we'll meet up in Vermillion, ok?"

 

I nod, unable to say anything else at the moment.

 

"Isn't there anything else that I can do?"

 

"N-no."

 

"Alright," he says hesitantly. "But I won't leave you. Not until you calm down a little."

 

"I'm sorry," I say.

 

"For what?"

 

"Being a mess."

 

"It's ok," Elliot says. "Really."

 

"No, it's not."

 

"It's like... It's just... Mary Ann said you need to let it out. She told me... Agh! I wish that she was here right now. I feel so useless!"

 

"You're doing fine," Nurse Joy encourages. I hadn't even realized she was still here.

 

"Just don't feel bad about that, ok?" Elliot says. "It's good for you."

 

"It doesn't feel good."

 

"Well..." Elliot draws out the word slowly, like he's nervous about something. "Maybe you shouldn't bottle it all up next time."

***

I eventually manage to pull myself together enough to trade Alma and Maria back for Unicorn and Serendipity. Somehow, Serendipity and Elliot had found their way to the basement, retrieved the key, and exited out the back door. Either we were a lot closer than I had thought or Elliot is really getting to be a somewhat impressive trainer. Maybe he really can find a way to defeat Blaine, Magikarp or no Magikarp.

 

I don't know how he's going to make it off the island when he's done, but he told me he would find a way. I just hope that way doesn't involve riding off to Pallet Town on the back of a Gyarados because that's never going to happen.

 

Mystique and I are headed straight back the way we came. I was so exhausted yesterday that I slept on one of the Seafoam Islands from late afternoon straight on to the following morning, but I woke up feeling even worse than before and with Agent Devlin's face refreshed in my mind.

 

I've spent what feels like the last two hours of the journey with my face pressed into the back of my hand, leaning against Mystique's long blue neck. It's smooth and rubbery and also warm. I feel the vibrations travel through it as she sings soft songs.

 

Some time ago, I heard the solo become a chorus and looked up to see that two more Lapras had joined us. I remembered then that they like to travel in pods, like a family. I had felt a tiny bit better before I thought of that.

 

Everything feels like a tangled mess of string inside of me. I'm so confused. I don't know what I'm feeling other than just bad. A whole lot of bad. Lots of different kinds of bad.

 

Mary Ann asked me when it was that I had changed. Did I know this before? I must have, right? But, then, did I really just never think about it? Right. I guess I didn't. Because it makes me feel like this. But the fact is that everything I was changed when I realized that my mother wasn't coming back for me. When I finally understood that she didn't... That she never...

 

Stop, I beg myself. Please just stop. I slide down lower against Mystique's neck, head bowed with the pain. I can't take this. I can't. I would do anything to make it go away. I never want to feel anything again.

 

I focus on trying to control my breathing, wanting to think about something with no emotional ties, something clean, even just for a few moments.

 

And then I hear a rumbling, feel the waves splashing up higher onto Mystique's back. I look up just in time to see the explosion. From a little island far off to the southwest, there's a burst the color of orange flame. A cloud of thick gray smoke and ash billows up into the air. I cover my ears against the sound, and Mystique and the others begin swimming faster than they've ever swum before.

 

"Elliot!" I shout.

This happened in the game. Between games. The first generation and the second. Why didn't I think of it before? The reason Blaine's gym moves to the Seafoam Islands in Gold and Silver... Cinnabar Island will be totally engulfed.

"Elliot!"

And that's when I know that I will never be ok again.


	40. Fallout

I don’t know how I made it back to Vermillion City, but I did. When I couldn’t sleep, Mystique sang to me. When I couldn’t eat or couldn’t think or couldn’t stop picturing that eruption and hearing that explosion and imagining all the ash and lava raining down while Elliot stood there and looked up in confusion, well, then I was on my own. Sometimes I imagined that I could hear their screams.

And mixed in with it all, like random photographs stuffed into an album where they don’t belong, images of this woman I haven’t thought about in years and haven’t seen for years longer. A woman with brown hair like mine and little eyes and an expression that always looks detached. This person I used to call my mother. She doesn’t deserve to be called that at all. Not after what she did. Or after what she didn’t do.

Before I left the island, I had felt the need to talk to Mary Ann, to get her to do the memory thing on me again. This time I wasn’t hunting for this supposed key. This time I was aching for a bit of clarity.

But now that I’m ashore, walking up the pier where Elliot pushed me in with a laugh just days ago, all I want is for this to end. I’m tired of feeling so much pain. I don’t know how I ever pretended to be ok.

I walk with my head bowed low, not because I’m trying to avoid the stares or because I’m consciously focusing on the ground in front of me in order to keep moving but because every other position suddenly feels unnatural.

People are talking, asking me questions, but I barely hear them. I’m in a Silver and Gold zone anyway; they’ll probably be just as off as the wild Pokémon that waited patiently for the attack that would faint them.

I walk on for hours without rest. I can’t eat anything. I don’t feel like stopping.

I make it to Saffron City at nightfall. As I trudge wearily out of the guardhouse, practically dead on my feet, a bright green blur tackles me so hard I almost crack my head open on the concrete step I just stepped down from. Before I even get a good look at her, I’m hugging Chica tightly to my chest.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” she cries, rubbing her cheek against my face, squirming around as though she wants to get even closer than literally lying on top of me, turning her head to rub against me with her other cheek. Her smell is strong, perfume-like, a scent I think I recognize. Forget-me-nots.

“You really missed me?”

She lets out a “Chika-ah” halfway between an emphatic statement and a moan. 

She’s crying, I’m crying, and we stay that way for what feels like very long time before I look up and notice that Mary Ann has been standing there awkwardly the entire time. She’s holding her pad of paper tightly to her chest with both hands, but, when my eyes land on her at last, she takes off her right hand and uses it to beckon for me to get up. Her face is tight with worry.

I sniffle, give Chica one last squeeze, and lift her off of me. As I do, I notice that she is much lighter than usual, and very thin. I can’t see well through the water in my eyes, but my perspective shifts as I stand so that I can more easily see the patches of discoloration on her body. Brown for the leaf on her head. Others are not brown but instead too green. Or is it that Chica’s natural skin has grown too pale?

“Has she been eating?” I ask Mary Ann.

“Not much,” she signs, looking down sadly.

“Chica, what do you think you’re playing at?” I ask angrily. “Strong Pokémon need to eat.”

Her lower lip quivers, and she begins sobbing even harder.

I glance at Mary Ann, then lower myself back to the ground. I rest a hand on the back of Chica’s neck.

“Hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re weak. You just… you have to eat, ok?” And now I’m back at it. It’s like I’ve spent years of my life saving up all the tears I never used and built up this massive reservoir that refuses to be exhausted.

Mary Ann lowers herself down next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. She looks at me with concern, but I also see her bite her lip.

“What? What is it?” I ask.

Chica blinks away tears and steps out from beside me with a half turn. “Ah?”

She bites down harder and slowly pulls her notepad away from her chest. Written on it are the words, “Where is Elliot?”

***

My knowledge of sign language isn’t good enough to tell yet, but, based on Mary Ann’s expression, I think she’s asking, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Y-E-S,” I spell out in return, adding a nod for extra emphasis.

It’s been three days since I arrived in Vermillion City. Three terrible, awful days of the kind that I hope I never have to face again. On day one, we used the telephone in the Pokémon Center to try calling Elliot’s cell phone. We didn’t get an answer. We didn’t even get an answering machine. Much as I hate that noise, I would have given almost anything to hear just one falsely cheerful “Ring, ring, ring” on the other end of the line. What we heard instead was static. And what we saw was a little black box pop up on screen: “This number is unavailable”. And then silence.

I look now at Mary Ann. “I have to do this. It’s been bursting to get out of me. I need to. I need to get it out before I can get better. I know it. One of the last things he said to me… He wanted me to find a way to be happy.”

Mary Ann frowns.

“I know I’m crying again. I’m going to be crying anyway once this is over, why shouldn’t I get a head start now?”

She takes in a deep breath and lets it out as a sigh. Goran walks into the room and steps right into position as if responding to a psychic call. He probably is, actually. I’ve learned over the past few days that it’s one of the things he and Mary Ann can do. Each is always aware of where the other is and can somehow feel when they are needed.

Goran pulls out his metal pendant and sets it into the pattern of the slow swing that puts me into a hypnotic trance. 

The sensation is familiar now, but instead of opening my eyes to the scene of my old foster home on the night that I left that world behind forever, I open them on the sight of a seedy-looking apartment complex: cardboard and duct tape where one of the window panes should be, paint peeling off the doors, cigarette butts and the remnants of a broken beer bottle littered around the stoop where a woman stands with an expression like the dead. She’s young. Too young, I realize with a shock. Brown hair, little eyes, a face not much older than my own. And she’s watching her six year old daughter being taken away by the social worker.

In the small, small body of my past self, I feel the social worker’s hand on my shoulder, guiding me to the open door of her car. I remember this woman’s name now. Lucy. I knew her. She had come to our house a lot. She had asked me lots of questions and then smiled at me and thanked me for being so good. She’d come back and had a special talk with only me. She’d told me not to be scared, that she was taking me to live in another place for a while. A place with lots of nice people where everything would be good. But I didn’t want to go.

“Mommy?” I asked, wanting her to tell Lucy to make it so that I could stay.

“Mommy?” I asked, more pitifully, wanting her to come and take me in her arms.

“Mommy?” Wanting her to stop looking at me without really looking at me.

“Mommy, you’ll come get me, right?”

Standing limply on the stoop, her head nods up and down.

“How can she stand like that?” I ask Mary Ann, knowing that she is picking up on all of the thoughts that I direct to her as I watch this memory. “What is she even thinking? Doesn’t she…?”

“Doesn’t she what?” Mary Ann’s voice asks gently.

“Never mind.”

“No. Not ‘never mind’.”

I pause, struggling within myself as I watch the car door close behind me.

“Buckle up, please,” Lucy said as she slid into the driver’s seat.

“What?” I asked.

“Your seatbelt. Please put it on.” She turned around in her seat and pointed.

I feel my little fingers reaching for it, watch out of my past eyes as my head turns, offering me one more glimpse of the woman on the stoop.

I finally force out the thought to Mary Ann. “Doesn’t she even care?”

I come out of the hypnosis and the two of us, plus Goran and Chica, just sit there for a long time. Everyone is emotionally worn out. Well, everyone except for Goran, who I guess is too much of a loner to have really gotten to know Elliot all that well, but is it really my imagination that he at least seems to be troubled about something?

I know I should be trying to think about everything I’ve just seen, to figure out where this piece fits into the puzzle, but I really just keep playing back images from it over and over again. I’m not thinking, I’m feeling. But maybe you can’t solve a puzzle of emotion by using normal logic.

Working towards healing for myself personally and working my way to the mystery key that will save everyone have become one and the same goal. Whatever this thread is that I’m pulling on, I know that it’s connected. I can feel it now. This thing that I'm looking for falls somewhere between my mother and the song from Victory Road. Who ever would have thought? But the one I have to focus on is obvious because actually going to Victory Road seems like an impossible dream now that Elliot…

I notice that Mary Ann is crying again.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” I say.

“Yes.”

“It’s just that you seem just as upset about this as I am, and, well, I guess I didn’t realize you and Elliot were so close. Were there really that many conversations I missed out on because I don’t know sign language?”

“We did have some really good talks,” she writes out quickly.

“I guess it must be really nice having someone you can talk to, what with everyone else in this world being too stupid to even know what sign language is,” I muse. “And Elliot definitely will talk your ear off if you let him. Or… he would.”

“You never let him?” she writes.

I force a tiny smile. “Nah, he was too annoying.”

“Did you really think that?”

“I definitely did at first. But I guess sometimes I was really just pretending. It doesn’t even make sense. I guess I just didn’t want to be too nice to him? Because I didn’t want him to get too close to me? Because I didn’t want to admit to myself how much I cared about him?”

Mary Ann swallows so hard I can see her throat move.

“What?”

She hesitates, but I see her pencil move across the paper anyway. And then she moves it in a line like she's underlining something for emphasis. And again and again. Finally, she lifts the pencil like she’s done but keeps looking down at what she’s written for a long time.

“Come on, I answered all of your questions, right?” I force another smile.

She bites her lip again and slowly lifts the paper up for me to see: “ ~~Did the two of you~~ ~~I know you never~~ ~~You said you didn’t, but~~ How exactly did you feel about Elliot, really?”

My mouth drops open. “Mary Ann, did you…?”

She flushes and signs out, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Mary Ann, no," I say, trying to get her to stop, not wanting her to feel bad on my account. "I’m asexual.”

Now her mouth drops.

“I’ve never felt that way about anyone. I don’t think I ever will. Aromantic, it’s called.” I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “I don’t really talk about it.”

“You don’t have to unless you want to,” Mary Ann writes. “You’re going through enough.”

“Yeah." I pause. "I just didn’t know that you—“

I’m interrupted by a harsh tapping on the window pane. I turn towards it and see Mary Ann following my gaze. There’s a Spearow outside the window, holding a small piece of paper in its beak. Mary Ann stands, walks to the window, and unlatches it. As soon as she pulls it open, the bird sticks its head inside, drops the note, and flies away.

It takes Mary Ann only a few seconds to read it, but I see her hands begin to tremble. She looks at me with wide eyes, and I grab the note for myself.

“I know you’re in there. Both of you. You can’t hide under Sabrina’s protection forever. I have your Jolteon. Surrender yourselves to me at the Underground Path entrance on Route 7 or he dies. Devlin”.


	41. Now Surrender

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Mary Ann as we approach the guardhouse. “I mean, how did Agent Devlin even know that you were with me?”

Mary Ann puts a hand to her head and twists it forward into the sign for “I don’t know.” She adds a shrugging of the shoulders and a slight shaking of the head. She’s scared.

“I’m serious. I’m the only one that they should want. I’ll go first and try to talk some sense into her.”

Mary Ann shakes her head. As we step into the guardhouse, she pauses to lay her notepad down on the counter so she can write out: “I’m not going to risk Chance’s life because I am afraid.”

She waits until I’ve finished reading it, then gives me a hard look. I frown and turn my attention instead to Chica.

“Now, no matter what happens, I need you to control your temper, ok? This is going to sound harsh, but I don’t want anyone to end up dead because you attacked without thinking. You only try to save OR protect us when and if I tell you to. Do I make myself clear?”

The still brown and wilted leaf on Chica’s head somehow finds a way to sag down further. So quietly that I can barely hear her, she says, “Ah.”

I turn my head so she can’t see my reaction. It was the answer that I wanted, but does it sound weird to say that I wanted it only after a huge argument? Where is all the fighting spirit that I love? Something is very wrong. She’s still wearing the Everstone, but she refused to tell me why. Mary Ann reports that she’s been in a state almost like depression ever since I left.

I thought my coming back would have cheered her up, but I also brought the news about Elliot. Not only Elliot but Maria, Alma, all the Pokémon that were with him. I don’t know if even Kyu could have escaped all the ash raining down from the sky. I guess if Elliot released him at just the right time into the ocean, Harry might have made it.

A Magikarp! If any one of them could have survived, why does it have to be the stupid Magikarp? I deliver a punch straight into the wooden doorframe.

Mary Ann’s eyebrows raise.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Let’s just go. Chance is waiting.”

Never have I walked so slowly through a guardhouse. The hallway seems so short, and yet our tiny steps make it stretch on and on. A few steps more to the opposite door. A few steps down the stairs. And a few more into the entrance of the underground path, where Agent Devlin is waiting for us. Stretch, stretch, stretch, we go on savoring every last second of our freedom.

Finally, we stand before the plain brown door. I can’t help remembering that it was beyond a wooden door just like this one that Elliot and I first started travelling together. It was also down in that long tunnel that I first met Chance. Just a little Eevee with wide brown eyes, light and delicate enough to easily be hidden away inside of Elliot’s small drawstring bag.

“It could have suffocated!” I remember scolding him, just after I reached out and grabbed that sweet little Pokémon away from him, held the yet-unnamed Chance safe in my arms.

I push open the door.

“Chance!” I cry.

The Jolteon’s fur is lying flat, completely flat, as if all the electricity has been drained from his body. He lies on the ground with his eyes closed in a grimace of pain. He hears my voice and jumps to his feet with a bark.

I’m running forward, wondering why he isn’t coming towards me. Why is he standing still? I don’t see…

Wham!

I hit something smooth and hard, an invisible force that blocks me off from Chance like a wall. I’m thrown back so hard the back of my head hits the dirt. That’s not right. It was barely ten steps. I wasn’t running fast enough to hit that hard.

I sit up just in time to catch Chica in my arms mid-tackle, and, from behind me, I hear a low chuckle.

I spin around just in time to see Agent Devlin kick the door closed behind Mary Ann, the last to enter. She must have been leaning there, right up against the wall, the entire time.

“I see someone’s caught on to my little trick.” She pauses as if giving us a chance to respond. “No?” She smiles devilishly and snaps her fingers. “Clara!”

A large blue head with eyes shaped like angle brackets pops up through the hole in the floor. Next, the mouth, carrying the shape and color of perfectly applied lipstick. Out come two long, flat arms without hands or fingers, and then the entire Wobbuffet is half pushing, half jumping until her four bulb-like feet are settled on ground level and her rubbery black tail is bobbing happily from side to side.

I reach out a hand, very, very gently to touch the barrier entrapping Chance. It’s smooth as glass but feels almost like a liquid. My fingertip barely grazes it when something makes my hand whip backwards at the wrist. On the other side, Chance whimpers.

“Let him out.”

Agent Devlin holds out her hand to examine her nails. “Surrender yourselves first.”

“We have.”

“Good.” She lowers her hand and bobs her head sideways towards Mary Ann. “Tie up your friend there.”

“No!” I say. My stomach churns.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you still not understand? This isn’t an ordinary box. That part where I called up Clara? That was supposed to reveal the big surprise. But, then, you never were as smart as you thought you were, were you? All those failed escape attempts.” She shakes her head.

“The last one succeeded,” I growl.

She ignores me. “You see, Clara is no ordinary Wobbuffet. She casts Counter and Mirror Coat with the best of them, returning any attack on her with double the force, but I think you’ve already seen that she can cast those abilities onto me as well, protecting me from all of your antics. She can cast them anywhere in fact, even mold them into different shapes. Did I mention she was raised by a family of Mr. Mime?”

“An invisible box made out of Mirror Coat?” I ask incredulously.

“And reinforced with Counter,” Agent Devlin replies.

Mary Ann stands in the center of the room, looking from me to Devlin and back again. Knowing as little as she does about Pokémon, I doubt she understands any of this.

“Don’t touch the box,” I tell her.

“Sound advice.” Agent Devlin tosses me a bit of rope. “Now tie her up.”

I catch it reflexively, but just looking down at it makes me feel sick. Chica catches my eye and raises her wilted leaf a little higher.

“Did I mention Clara has complete control over this box of hers? One attack on me or her…” Agent Devlin snaps her fingers. “And I cut off the air.”

Inside the box, Chance begins to gasp.

“Stop it!”

His head bends low, each gasp like the scratching of a nail against the surface of my heart.

“Please.” I breathe more heavily, as if I’m trying to take in air for the both of us.

“Arr,” Chica growls.

I swing my leg around in front of her, blocking her off from her intended target.

“Mary Ann, come here.” Yet another tear slides down my cheek. My throat feels inflamed.

Agent Devlin snaps her fingers, and Chance’s next gasp stretches long as his lungs fill up with air.

Mary Ann steps forward, takes a shaky breath, and slowly raises her arms, fingers curled into her palms, wrists together. She closes her eyes.

“Don’t think about it,” I tell myself as I take the rope in my hands and lay one end of it at the base of her left hand. I don’t know if she’s trembling or if it’s my own hands shaking.

“Not too loose, no trick knots,” Devlin orders.

I’ve never done this before, but I remember perfectly. Every time I was taken out of my cell for exercise, Agent Devlin tied my hands exactly the same way. As I repeat the actions now, I picture it inside my head and pretend that the memory is real, that Devlin is the one who is doing this instead of myself. Only when I close off the knot do I snap back to reality.

Mary Ann’s eyes are still closed. Tighter now. She’s definitely shaking. I tap her shoulder to get her to look at me.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth.

She looks back at me, her face taking on all of the emotion that she can’t express. I’ve taken away her voice.

“Good,” Devlin says. “Now return your Chikorita to her pokéball.”

She tosses me a little red and white object that distracts me even from that last thought. “What?”

“You dropped them in the woods,” she shrugs.

So all this time, Agent Devlin had Chance and Chica’s pokéballs?

I pop the button to expand the ball and turn it on Chica quickly, knowing she will be safer inside than she is out here. Team Rocket couldn’t break into the pokéballs last time, and, if they could now, Devlin would have done it already with Chance.

“Now hand it over. All your others, too. And hers.”

“She doesn’t have any.”

Agent Devlin raises an eyebrow. “Not a trainer, huh? Interesting company you keep. What’s your name, girl? I’m assuming you have one.”

No response.

Agent Devlin raises her right hand with the tip of her middle finger pressed against her thumb, ready to deliver a snap.

Mary Ann’s eyes get even wider with panic.

“It’s Mary Ann,” I say quickly. “And leave her alone.”

“Fine.” Devlin shrugs. “Just hand over the pokéballs.”

I do.

She takes Unicorn and Serendipity’s balls and dumps them unceremoniously into her pocket, but she takes Chica’s very carefully in her hand.

“I assume you know how pokéballs work?” She rolls it between her fingers idly. “The Pokémon’s pattern is stored inside, and a marker prevents capture by any other ball. The original cannot be replaced, as I’m sure you’ve found since losing two of yours. The Pokémon is freed only when the release button is pressed. If the Pokémon is outside of its ball when the ball is destroyed, it retains the marker, which means it can never again be captured. If the Pokémon is inside the ball when it is destroyed…”

My mouth goes dry. “You wouldn’t.”

“Hey, boss’s orders are to bring you back, along with anyone who might be helping you. Your Chikorita’s pokéball can’t be hacked, so what does he care?”

“But what about you?” I ask desperately. “Don’t you care that you would be killing an innocent Pokémon?”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “No.”

She stops rolling the pokéball between her fingers and presses the white button to expand it instead. She presses it again, and the ball pops open, revealing circuits that glow and pulse through a crisscross of delicately arranged wires.

My heart jumps. “What are you doing?”

She reaches into a little pouch at her belt and pulls out a tiny circle of metal with a blinking light on it and some kind of metal tool with a sharp point. She takes the red half of the pokéball in hand, the lower half dangling from its hinge, and presses the tool against it.

“Stop!” I take a step forwards, but she quickly holds up a finger.

“Ah, ah, ah. Let’s not forget our Jolteon in the box. If you must know, there’s nothing important down here at the edge anyway.”

She jabs with the tool, piercing straight through the outer shell. Then she turns it and does the other side to match, leaving two tiny holes right at the place where the red half meets the white. She sets down the tool and lifts the little metal circle towards the inside of the pokéball.

I slump down to the ground. “Please.”

“Jolt!” Chance barks. “Jolt! Jolt!”

She ignores us both, sticking the device to a dense patch of wires, where it stays put as if glued. She returns the tool to her pouch and pulls out a long gray wire, which she carefully threads through and out through the fresh holes. Holding one end of wire in each hand, she lifts up the entire thing and attaches it around her neck. She flips the pokéball over and peers inside. The little light has stopped blinking. She snaps it closed and shrinks it down to size so that it looks like nothing more than an especially realistic charm on a necklace.

“If this circuit is broken,” she points to the wire around her neck, “that little piece of metal will fry every vital circuit this pokéball has got. All it takes is one good tug.”

She lifts up a portion of the wire for emphasis, then reaches into her pocket and throws me a pokéball with a question mark sticker on the top.

“Now, return your Jolteon so I can tie you next. We have a long journey ahead of us.”


	42. The Tunnel Below

“Clara, check the path for trainers,” Agent Devlin orders her Wobbuffet.

The blue Pokémon puts her flat arm up to her forehead in a salute and sort of wobbles out the door of the building above the underground path. I’m sitting next to Mary Ann now, leaning my shoulder against her and wishing that I could transmit even a tiny portion of strength into her body through it. She’s crying and shaking. Her head is bent low, and her eyes are closed. I would talk to her if she would only look at me, but she won’t respond to any of my nudging.

A loud thump sounds out from directly below us. I jerk in surprise, but Mary Ann does not move.

“Hey!” I yell. “Hey, you in the tunnel! Team Rocket’s in the building! Run away!”

Agent Devlin folds her arms across her chest as she looks at me. “I’m sure he wishes that he could.” Then, louder, “Cut out the racket!”

She’s greeted with another thump, which makes her roll her eyes. She walks to the ladder sticking up through the center of the floor.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you run, do I?” she asks. She lowers herself down before I have a chance to respond. The next time I hear her voice is from the very bottom: “Will you cut that out? Fine, I’ll take off the gag.”

“We have to leave now,” a second voice spits.

“Derrick?” I gasp.

“The one and only,” he calls back, then lowers his voice again for Devlin. “It’s coming. I can feel it.”

“It’s never been this fast before,” she says suspiciously.

“Something’s changed. It’s… I can barely stop myself from making a run for Vermillion City, ok? I can’t focus.”

“How long?” Devlin asks.

“I don’t know,” he says with obvious frustration.

“Some help you are.”

“Well, you’re the one who dragged me out of the tower.”

“I thought you would be of use to me. I was correct.”

“Yeah, got your nice little prize, haven’t you?” he asks bitterly.

“All three of them.”

“You found the red haired one?”

“No, you idiot. I’m counting you.”

There’s no response.

Agent Devlin climbs back up the ladder. “Barometer here makes a good point. Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my… right, don’t care,” I say, remembering her response from last time. “Not here.”

“Well, I know that,” Devlin snorts. “But there’s a target on his head, too. Not my job, really, orders from the big boss said ‘girl with the Chikorita’, and that’s you. I just don’t trust whatever numbskull did get orders for what’s-his-name. If he butts in and causes any trouble, you can kiss your Chikorita good bye, got that?”

“I’m sure it won’t be any problem,” I say bitterly, turning my face away until I'm sure I've regained mastery over the tears.

“Wobbuffet,” Clara says from somewhere outside the building.

“Coast is clear,” Devlin interprets. “You, Mary Ann, get outside. Chikorita girl, fetch Barometer and follow.”

I tap Mary Ann’s shoulder. No response. I wave my hand under her face, and her head finally jerks up.

I point towards the door. “Follow Devlin. I’ll be right out.”

The expression on her face tells me she’s going to need a minute, so I stall for time. “Why do you keep calling him ‘Barometer’?”

Agent Devlin smiles. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? Sabrina of Saffron City is using her powers to keep all the Rockets out, but she’s doing more than that. She’s taking revenge on us for the attack against her by messing with our minds. I inspected your cell from top to bottom every day for anything you could use to escape, and that psychic witch made my eyes skip right over that trash can every single time. We’ve got the security footage to show it sitting right there, day after day, and all the time it had the uniform you used to open the door and escape from us. I am not that incompetent of a guard.”

But the trash can wasn’t there day after day. It just appeared. It appeared because the Team Rocket base was changing, being affected by the same thing that is happening all over. It appeared because it was getting to be more like the video game, and I’m supposed to be the hero. There is a psychic behind this, one who set all this craziness into motion around me, but it isn’t Sabrina. Still, Devlin is close, probably as close as she can get with her memory affected the same way everyone else’s is. She remembers that trash can being there the whole time, even though it really wasn’t.

“Sabrina is playing games throughout our entire organization. You wouldn’t believe the crazy plans, the inconsistencies, the plain stupidity. Did you know that we don’t have any operatives in Fuchsia City or Vermillion City? Call me crazy, but if we’re looking for you and your friend, I think it would be a good idea to have people stationed in the places where you’re from. Now our organization has some pretty stupid leaders, but they’re not that stupid. Giovanni’s doing plenty out in Viridian and Pewter, but, that’s the thing, Sabrina’s influence can only stretch so far, can’t it?”

I can see Mary Ann finally looking at me as if she really sees me. Her eyes dart to the door I pointed to, probably wondering if she should go. I try to be subtle in holding up a finger so that she’ll wait until I’ve gotten to the very bottom of this.

“Sabrina’s tough,” Agent Devlin continues, “but I see what she’s doing. And she’s playing mind tricks on Barometer most of all. He wasn’t supposed to be leading the attack on Saffron, but, after his battle with you, I’m sure it looked that way. Probably hates him for that. I don’t know how this psychic stuff works, but I know that when his mind starts to go to pieces, it’s time to get out. That’s why I call him Barometer. He can sense when there’s a storm coming.”

My heart starts beating faster. She knows. She knows way too much. She’s figured out that the effects are spread out over certain areas, and, even worse, she knows how to avoid them. We can’t count on her wandering into one of them on accident and conveniently making herself disappear.

“Now, go grab him for me. You, outside.”

Just in case she wasn’t reading Devlin’s lips, I give Mary Ann a tap. I can hear her breath shaking as I turn away. I run for the hole as fast as I can and quickly discover just how difficult it is to climb down a ladder when both your hands are tied together. About halfway down, I see a rope tied around the right side. The other end is tied to Derrick.

I wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he’s looking even worse than he did when we last met. Last time he was pale and sickly. Now there’s a bruise on his cheek, and his clothing is torn in places. His wrists show signs of rope burn, and a thin strip of cloth still hangs around his neck in preparation for Agent Devlin to gag him again.

As soon as he sees me coming, he exhales heavily and closes his eyes. Now, I’ve just been taken prisoner by the organization that he signed up for. He should be gloating. Because my hands are tied together, I’m struggling to keep my balance on a simple ladder. He should be making fun of my clumsiness. I am standing directly above him wearing a skirt. That’s fish in a barrel for a creep like him. 

But he keeps his eyes closed until I’m all the way down, and even then it takes a few extra seconds. He only looks up when he hears the clattering of rocks.

“What are you doing?”

His voice freezes me in place. Is it really Derrick who said that? It should have been jeering. It should have been said with a sneaky smile. Every syllable should have screamed to me, “don’t take this seriously”. But it doesn’t. It sounds quiet and serious and even a little sad. Have I ever heard Derrick actually talk to me?

“Finding a rock sharp enough to cut you loose,” I reply roughly. Roughly because I don’t know what other tone to take. I pick up a rock with a pretty good looking edge to it and start sawing at the rope tying him to the ladder. I very carefully avoid the knot keeping his hands tied together. I want to get him up this ladder, not set him completely free.

He says nothing. I say nothing. When the rope is finally whittled down to almost nothing, he gives it a sharp yank. It snaps. I dash back into the tunnel, but just a few steps. I stand behind him, trying my best to look like an impenetrable wall when I’m sure the last thing I look right now is menacing.

Derrick looks at me in confusion. “You’re not going to cut yourself free and run away?”

“No, I just didn’t want you to have this.” I take the rock and throw it down the tunnel as far as I can manage. “And if you don’t start climbing up that ladder in the next five seconds, I swear that I will—“

“Spare me your threats. We both know that you don’t mean them.” He grips onto a rung with both hands and awkwardly hoists up his feet.

I follow using the same technique. It’s slow progress, but I’m relieved that he didn’t make it difficult for me to do what Devlin ordered. She has Chica, Chance, Serendipity, Unicorn, and Mary Ann, and I don’t think it would even prick her conscience to kill any of them. I absolutely hate it, but I can’t take any risks, not even on something as small as cutting my own ropes just partway. Anyway, I don’t trust Derrick not to tell her. He might look like a prisoner, but I know he must be faking. Playing tricks is all he ever does. He’s just going for a really good one this time.

Derrick steps out the door first.

“Barometer,” I hear Agent Devlin say, “why don’t you tell this girl what happens to people who don’t respect me?”

I push past him and start running. The back of Agent Devlin’s black Team Rocket uniform is in a little grove of trees close by. The trees are standing in front of a low wall of rock, and Mary Ann’s back is pressed up against it. Hard. She’s struggling, squirming every which way to try to get free of Agent Devlin’s grip. She launches a kick towards Devlin’s stomach, and I hear her cry out in pain as Clara the Wobbuffet uses Counter to send all the force of it back at her double. Agent Devlin releases her, and she crumples to the ground, holding her own stomach with a moan.

“Stop it!” I shout, finally closing the distance.

“Quiet,” Agent Devlin returns, playing her fingers along the wire of her necklace. “Do you want the whole of Kanto to hear you?”

I kneel down on the ground and touch Mary Ann’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”

“She will be if she’s learned her lesson.”

I breathe in and out twice, fighting back the urge to shout again. “Leave. Her. Alone.”

“She wasn’t listening to what I said.”

“Was she looking at you?”

“What?”

“She can’t understand you unless she reads your lips.” I grit my teeth and try to focus on my concern for Mary Ann over the searing rage I feel towards Agent Devlin.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Could’ve saved me the trouble.”

I tap Mary Ann on the shoulder, thinking, “look at me, look at me.”

Finally, she does.

“It’s the Pokémon,” I say, but I send the words out of my mouth in complete silence. “Her Wobbuffet Clara makes it impossible to hurt her. You’ll only get yourself hurt if you try. I don’t know what happened, but I’m here now. I won’t let her do it again.”

Sobbing, Mary Ann lifts her arms over my head and pulls me into as tight a hug as she can manage, a hug that feels like “don’t ever leave me”.

I turn my head towards Devlin and snarl, “don’t even talk to her. We’ll do anything you ask, but I handle it.”

Devlin shrugs. “Less work for me. Now, let’s get into those woods before stupid travelers come walking down the path.” She points north.

I help Mary Ann stand up. She’s shaky, but she stays on her feet.

Devlin announces, “And we’re making a run for it in 3, 2, 1…”

Where is Goran? I wonder desperately. He Confused me into La La Land when I said something mean completely on accident. Mary Ann didn’t even have time to react to it before he sprang into action to defend her. There’s a reason that we came without him. Devlin doesn’t know that he and Mary Ann have a psychic link. She would only think to check for captured Pokémon, and, of course, Goran has never been inside a pokéball. With the way he and Mary Ann can always sense where the other is and when they are needed, it was the perfect rescue plan. So what went wrong?


	43. Mirror, Mirror

We spend all day walking west. Mostly west. If one thing is clear, it’s that Agent Devlin does not have my flawless sense of direction. I know we’re wandering off course, but there’s no way I’m telling her.

I’m trying to be strong again, to put back up the walls that I worked for so long to build around myself. When Devlin looks at me, I try not to shudder. When she slides her fingers almost absentmindedly along the wire connected to Chica’s pokéball, I bite back my cries. When Mary Ann looks at me for support, I fake a reassuring smile.

I’m doing this for her, trying to be strong so she will be protected, but I know that she can tell. It might be more difficult when she’s so upset herself, but, as the day wears on, I can almost feel her psychic sense peering into me, like a parent lifting a blanket away from a little kid who was trying to hide beneath the covers. 

Everything is still there. Everything. My fear of Devlin, my fear for Mary Ann, the guilt for not being there to protect her sooner, the fear that Devlin will end up killing Chica no matter what I do, the stomach-twisting thought of showing weakness in front of Derrick, lingering thoughts about my mother, the weight of responsibility, the guilt of knowing that I will never be able to reverse the changes and stop the disappearances now, and Elliot. These things rattle around as if shaken up by every step I take, turning up first one thing and then another for me to focus on. It is relentless. Inside my head, I am screaming. I hear it, I feel it. It pounds against my skull begging to be released. It wears me down.

As we stop for a rest, I remember how it felt staying at Mary Ann’s house those two days. For a time, I just felt hollow inside. I spent three hours staring at a wall. And then, when I finally broke down and cried, it felt so awful and yet so good. I wish that I could find the tears again, but I can’t bear to give up on any of my strength.

“Alright,” Agent Devlin announces. “Everybody get some sleep. We’ve got another long walk ahead of us tomorrow.”

As soon as I see that Mary Ann has found a good place to rest and that Derrick is far away from both of us, I sink to the ground, hoping for the release of sleep to come as soon as possible. Anything to get away from reality. Anything.

But I forget that sleep holds horrors of its own. I see the rock wall from earlier, Mary Ann cowering behind a tree as Agent Devlin advances. I rush forward, just as Mary Ann shrinks down and becomes a little eight year old girl. Not Jodi, me.

I know this, I know this even in my sleep. It’s odd, but I have never dreamt this so clearly in all the times that it has come to me. I can see all the little cracks and patterns in the rock. I look down and see individual blades of grass. My mind is so clear I could almost believe myself to be awake.

I remember what I learned about this dream, way back when Mary Ann used one of her five questions to ask me about it. Only a few days ago, but it already seems like an eternity. I thought then that this younger version of myself represented the way I used to be, the way that I still am deep inside. You might say that it’s the part of me that’s really me inside of the tough outer shell. That’s me. I am the wall between that little girl and the cruelties of all the outside world, all the Agent Devlins out there who would tear that girl apart.

I stand in front of the tree where my younger self is hiding and spread my arms wide. “She is under my protection. I will not let you hurt her.”

Agent Devlin stops walking and smiles.

I think to myself, “I am strong. I am tough. I will not let her rattle me. I will not let her win.”

Agent Devlin takes one step forward, then another. We are standing face to face. I could reach out a hand and trace the red “R” emblazoned on her uniform.

“I. Feel. Nothing,” I spit into her face.

Agent Devlin’s smile opens into a laugh. Her eyes look down, past me, and she points to something about waist-level. I spin around. The little girl is disappearing.

The air shimmers through her like her body is nothing but a colorful outline on the wind. And then, just for one brief second, she shrinks down even smaller, six instead of eight.

She looks up, straight into my eyes and says, “Mommy?” And then she’s gone.

Devlin’s laughter grows. I wheel around again, but I see nothing but trees. But the laughter isn’t coming from this direction, I realize. It sounds just the same, but it isn’t Devlin laughing. The sound is coming from me.

I turn back around. Standing at the foot of the tree, just where the younger version of myself used to be, I find a mirror. I see the familiar light brown hair and eyes, the face I know so well, but my white hat with the half-pokéball logo, along with my blue tank top and red skirt, are not the same. My hat now has a small brim in the front. It’s not white but black. And, above that brim is a scarlet letter “R”. I look down past the tight black miniskirt and see that even my shoes have morphed into the boots of the Team Rocket uniform.

I look back up, expecting to see my mouth twisted in horror, but I see only a small, familiar smile. I have seen that smile before, but it does not belong to me. The wind blows a leaf across the surface, obscuring the reflection. When it passes, the eyes that bore into mine are not brown but green, accented with eye shadow. I am Agent Devlin.

I sit bolt upright in the dark. A hand shoots forward, and I feel a finger pressed against my lips. I barely make out two curved eyes and a white semicircle that hovers just below them.

“Goran?” I wonder, recalling that the Hypno has a ruff of white fur around his neck.

I feel a hand grasp mine and tug upwards, bringing the other with it, as they are still tied together. Very, very slowly, I get to my feet. Without making a single noise, I follow the white semicircle towards a place where an opening in the canopy above creates a soft patch of moonlight. Mary Ann is sitting in it.

“We can’t go now,” I mouth to her in total silence. “Agent Devlin will kill Chica and all the others if we do. Have you told Goran that?”

Mary Ann nods.

“Can he use some kind of psychic power to disable the device so we can steal Chica’s pokéball back safely?”

She shakes her head.

“Or teleport it off of her neck so that it doesn’t break the connection?”

She shakes her head again.

I close my eyes, thinking. When I open them, I say. “She might try to kill us all no matter what, but only in the end. She wouldn’t have taken us this far unless she wanted something. We’re at least one more day from Viridian City. Tell Goran to stay close. I’ll try to think of something, but if things look bad…”

Mary Ann nods.

“Are you sure you know what I’m saying? I’m not leaving without Chica, but if we get all the way to Viridian City or if something else happens before then, I want you to call Goran, take as many others as you can, and run for it.”

Mary Ann frowns.

“Giovanni wants Chica alive, and Devlin follows orders. If she and I make it into Viridian City, it will be possible to save both of us again. There are police in Pewter City, where Dr. Clark is. He works at the museum. Find him, find the police, and stay safe.”

She nods, looking deeply unhappy.

“I should get back before Devlin thinks to check on me. Stay strong.”

Thanks to my compass sense, I return to the exact spot that I left, not that Agent Devlin would even notice if I moved a few feet over, but it makes me feel better to be absolutely safe.

I just lied to Mary Ann. There are no police in Pewter City. Not anymore. I don’t even have to check the fancy program Dr. Clark created to track the expansion of the different zones to know that it’s too late now. There isn’t a police station left in the entire region. If Mary Ann leaves, she will be abandoning me to my fate. But, at least now, she will go.

The thought of shielding her from the truth brings back the dream again. How long was Goran standing over me? All that clarity, combined with the fact that it was so long – did Goran use Hypnosis to help me with my dream?

He did a good job of it. I can still see that final image just as clearly as if it had happened in my waking hours. I see myself reflected back in that mirror as Agent Devlin. It wasn’t just a trick of the reflection. I was wearing her clothes. If I had reached up to touch my face, I know that I would have felt hers in its place.

I thought I was afraid of Agent Devlin hurting Jodi, Mary Ann, the younger version of myself. I was afraid of not being strong enough to protect them, but it was just when I was at my strongest, staring Agent Devlin in the face without any trace of fear, that everything I was fighting for was lost.

I let out a tiny gasp before I can stop myself. It was when I pushed away all of my emotion that the innermost part of myself vanished. I had truly meant it when I said that I felt nothing, and it was then that I saw my face replaced by Agent Devlin and her cold, unfeeling smile. I’m not afraid of being too weak to protect that inner part of myself. I’m afraid that I’m killing it myself by trying. And I’m afraid that the cold, empty shell that’s left will become my own version of an Agent Devlin. Crossed together with my mother.

“Ok,” I think. “Ok. I give up.”

And then I find the tears my screaming brain has been begging for. It hits me like a lightning strike: this is actually the bravest thing I could have done. After being so afraid, after being hurt so badly in the past, letting myself continue to be fragile and vulnerable is what takes true strength.

I see a shadowy form sit up in the darkness. Is that Devlin? My breath catches for just a second before I realize that the shadow has short hair. It’s not Devlin, it’s Derrick.

“What are you looking at?” I mutter. “Never seen a person cry before?”

The shadow is silent.

“What’s the matter? Tripping over yourself trying to decide which insult to throw out first? A generic ‘crybaby’ will do if you’re that desperate.”

The shadow’s head turns sideways, displaying the left profile, then the right. “Why would I insult the only person who can get me out of this?”

Now I go silent.

“I’m serious you know,” he says, and I can actually hear emotion in his voice, just like when he was talking to me down in the tunnel. “Do you think that I would admit that I need your help unless I was truly desperate? As soon as we get to Viridian City, Giovanni is going to kill me. Actually, he’ll probably get someone else to do it for him, but he’ll give the order and stand there watching it happen. Either way, I’m dead.”

“Why would they want to kill you? You’re one of them.”

“Giovanni thinks that I’m a traitor. I let you escape from me at Pokémon Tower, and people started asking questions. There’s a rumor going around that I tipped you off about the attack on Silph Co. and got into the battle with you to deliberately stall for time. They say that this whole rivalry between us is faked just to cover it up.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” I ask.

There’s a pause. “You don’t really mean that.”

My breath catches.

“You’re a good person. You always have been, even if you were a weak little marshmallow. And even now when you act so tough. You care about the fact that I could die.”

“Ok,” I say. “I don’t know why I’m being honest with you, but you’re right.”

“All I want,” Derrick says, “is your word that when you get out of this you will take me with you.”


	44. The Darkest Truth

"What makes you so sure I'm going to find a way out of this?" I whisper out into the darkness.

 

The shadow that is all I can see of Derrick leans forward slightly. "Because I was made to be your rival, but you were made to be the hero."

 

The same thing that got me out the first time I was trapped and held captive by Team Rocket. A video game wouldn't leave its hero without any options. But we're far from the Gold and Silver zone now and getting farther all the time. I see very little video game mechanics at work here; the trees look like normal trees, not graphics punched out of a uniform pattern.

 

"How did you know that I'm supposed to be the hero?" I ask. "You never played the video games. You hated them."

 

"You're not talking about the right me. I was created here. I was created to be the perfect rival for you, not the other way around. This is all about you, and you know it is."

 

"But how do you?"

 

"I know everything you think that I should know," he says, as though it's totally obvious.

 

"That's right," I mutter, not sure whether I'm talking to him or just to myself. "Mary Ann said that the psychic that's behind all this made you out of my memories. Or, just like an essence or something that she grafted on to someone else?"

 

"The real rival," Derrick sighs. "Gary or Blue or whoever. The closer I get to that stupid Fuchsia City of yours, the more he comes out. He's always trying to get me to go to these places where I'm just supposed to wait around until you show up to battle me. It feels like he's taking over my mind sometimes."

 

"But it was his to start with," I argue.

 

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask to be put here. And I didn't ask to be like this, either. You made me."

 

I pause to consider that. "But, then, why are you so different now?"

 

"Because you feel sorry for me? Way down deep inside someplace where you don't want to admit it because it's big bad scary me? Or... Oh! You've been thinking lately, haven't you? You learned about the psychic that made me from your memories, and you're starting to see me differently. Or you're starting to remember and you're remembering me differently."

 

"I don't remember you being smart," I snap, almost completely out of habit.

 

"No, but the last time you saw me I was nine. And now I'm how old, hm? A few years more than you still? I'm not Derrick. I'm the person you think Derrick would have become. And now you're starting to doubt yourself. What's the matter? Seeing your nine year old bully as someone a little bit more human?"

 

"Shut up," I say.

 

"Will you—"

 

"Shut up," I repeat, sticking my fingers in my ears childishly. "I'm tired and sad and afraid and I just want you to leave me alone right now."

 

The next word that he says is perhaps the most surprising of the entire conversation: "Alright."

 

Seriously? I wonder. Oh, right. He wants something from me. And "escape" vs. "death" are pretty high stakes. He's smart enough not to wreck his ticket out, no matter how much he might want to keep on bugging me.

 

I see his shadow lowering itself back into a sleeping position. "Can we talk again tomorrow? There's not much time left."

 

"Fine." I flop down onto the ground dramatically. Then I wince as I get a feel for how little cushioning grass actually provides. But he can't see my face, thank goodness.

 

Although it occurs to me that I'm supposed to stop trying to be so tough all the time now. Shoot. Old habits die hard.

 

Just before I drift off to sleep, I hear Elliot's voice in my head, the memory of what he said to me just a few eternal days ago: "You could be happy if you wanted to be." It seems impossible here and now, in this situation, but he meant that I could be if I keep doing what I've made up my mind to do. I can't give it all up now. To not become like Agent Devlin. To not turn into a younger version of my mother. For Elliot. And for that little girl inside me. I will do this.

***

After a quick breakfast, we set out once more. Agent Devlin's sense of direction seems to be a little better today; we've been headed almost straight west for the past few hours. At this rate, we should reach Viridian City by evening.

 

I've told Mary Ann everything that Derrick said to me last night, but I received only nods and a series of facial expressions in return. I know that she's concerned and perhaps a bit confused, but little more.

 

"I wish I could ask you what to do," I say silently.

 

She looks at me for a long second and raises an eyebrow.

 

"What do I think?"

 

She nods.

 

I sigh. "Alright, fine. I know him better than you do. He's a creation of my mind basically. I doubt anyone on earth knows him better than that, but it just feels like I don't. He's acting so different now. I can't tell if it's an act or if it's really like he says. Can what I've been working through really have changed him? I haven't even been thinking about him. I've been thinking about Jodi and about..."

 

Something in my mind goes off like a flash. My mother. Derrick and my mother. They're connected.

 

Derrick has spent all morning trying to catch my eye, but now I'm trying to catch his. He's walking in the middle of the pack, closer to Agent Devlin than we are. I don't want to call attention to this, and he would have to turn around to see me. I frown. And then I spot a pine tree. One casual flick of the wrist later, and there's a large brown pine cone bouncing off the back of Derrick's head.

 

He turns, and I jerk my head to the side. Get over here. He does.

 

"What?" he whispers, sounding annoyed.

 

"What was that thing you said at Pokémon Tower?" I demand. "Something about the day I found out the truth? What day is that?"

 

He raises an eyebrow. "You really don't remember."

 

"Don't remember or I'm blocking it. Tell me." A shiver travels down my spine as I say the words, like my body knows what's coming even though my brain does not.

 

"You were always a marshmallow," he says. "Someone had to toughen you up, and it sure wasn't going to be anyone else. Always skipping around and singing and telling us how your mommy was going to come back for you any day now. Like Bailey's mom did after she got out of rehab and the social workers gave the green light. But your mom was no druggie."

 

"No, she wasn't," I say faintly. There's a sick feeling in my stomach. My head feels light, like dizziness without the spinning. 

 

I feel Mary Ann's shoulder bump against mine, and I turn to see her eyebrows drawn down with concern.

 

"You made me sick, you know that?" Derrick continues. "What right did you have to be so happy? Life is miserable. Someone had to teach you. My old man abandoned me, just shipped me right off the week after my mother died. 'I never wanted a kid anyway,' he said to me. Well, tough. Maybe I didn't want him for a father, either. But that's life, isn't it?"

 

His expression hardens and his voice grows louder, barely a whisper anymore. "You know, no matter how many times I stole your things or called you names or beat you up, you wouldn't quit? You cried and cried, but you were still marshmallow. You know I actually caught you writing a letter one day? I asked what you thought you were doing, and when you told me, I smacked you in the head and told you how stupid you were being. But you folded up that letter into an envelope and gave it to the foster mom.

 

"'Please mail this for me. Pretty please,'" he says, imitating a little girl voice. "I hated you. I hated you for being sentimental and weak. So I told you what you needed to hear. Your mother wasn't coming back for you. The social workers didn't show up at your house because of any neighbor's complaints or suspicion of mistreatment or because your mom shipped off to jail or rehab. They showed up cause your mother asked them to show up. She wanted to get rid of you. She never asked to have you, she never wanted you, and she never loved you."

 

I let out a gasp. My next step stumbles. Mary Ann's hands reach out and grab my arm, trying to offer support.

 

Agent Devlin's head whips around. "Barometer, up here now," she barks. "I need those ladies walking, not sobbing. I've had far too much of it already."

 

Derrick sneers.

 

"Go, or I swear there is no deal," I hiss.

 

His face changes. His lips twist, and his eyebrows twitch downwards. He walks back to Agent Devlin's side and is greeted by a backhanded slap in the arm.

 

"Now," Devlin says, "you told me yesterday that you can feel it getting faster. How much longer until it overtakes us?"

 

"We're walking away from it," Derrick mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.

 

Devlin slaps him again. "Don't play games with me. Walking is about three to five miles per hour. Max. Walking through the woods for hours on end is probably less. And we stop to eat and sleep. You can't hide one of your attacks. I know when they have hit and how much distance we had covered in what amount of time in between. I can do the math well enough to know that it will overtake us. I want to know when. And I swear, if you don't tell me, I will force us to start running."

 

"You can't do that."

 

"Have you ever heard me make a threat I couldn't deliver on?"

 

"Fine. You know we're already inside the first wave. It's probably covered the entire region by now. The second one is on its way. The dangerous one. At the rate we're going, it'll probably reach Viridian the same time we do."

 

Devlin frowns. "How can her powers keep increasing?"

 

Derrick does not answer, but, based on the fact that Devlin doesn't smack him again, I'm guessing she didn't expect him to.

 

But I'm barely paying attention, caught up as I am in what Derrick just told me. This is the thing I've been avoiding, I'm sure of it. I wanted to forget, block it out, do anything to make it not be true, as if not remembering what Derrick told me all those years ago would make it any less true. But it's been affecting me all along. I just refused to see it.

 

I feel a dull ache settle into my heart. I want to curl up into a ball right here on the forest floor and never move another step.

 

But I feel Mary Ann's shoulder brush up against mine. She looks at me with great concern written across every feature, and right then I know. I might never be completely ok, but my mother is so far buried in my past that when I look back now it feels like I never really knew her. And right here and right now, there is at least one person who cares about me. I have Mary Ann, and Chance, and Serendipity, and Unicorn, and especially Chica.

 

"They all love you," Elliot would say if he were here.

 

And he would be right. I am loved.

 

For the first time in days, the tears that spring to my eyes are not driven by sadness or by grief. I don't deserve all of this. It's too good for me. Too good. It can't be, and yet it is.

 

I cry because something inside of me is crumbling. A painful, evil thing violently torn down. And it is both pain and purification.


	45. A Glimmer

I can’t believe that after all of that, Derrick still keeps trying to catch my eye. It’s past lunchtime now, and we’re getting closer to Viridian City with every step. He’s getting desperate, but I’ve had my own stuff to deal with. If he wanted me focused on this proposed deal of his, he shouldn’t have loaded me up with all that emotional baggage I’ve barely finished adjusting to. 

Surprisingly, though, I’m not sorry that he did. I’m beginning to wonder whether it really is like he said. I think my view of him is changing. All those things he said about toughening me up, even hating me for being weak. It sounds an awful lot like what I put on myself. I needed to be tough. I hated my own weakness. Or what I thought was weakness. And it was because of him.

But the image from my dream still haunts me. I can see the wooden outline of that mirror, the image inside of myself slowly turning into Agent Devlin. I never acted on it, but I felt almost the same way towards Jodi as Derrick did towards me. He made me this way. I could so easily have done the same to her. 

And if I had, would that have been my fault or Derrick’s? Is any of it Derrick’s fault if someone else made him the way he is? His mother died and his father abandoned him, and he was left with all this pain and nothing to do but take it out on me.

I know what that feels like. I also know what it means to be a victim. Both sides are hurt. Both sides need healing. And what I know right now is that this endless chain of misery is going to extend on and on and on until someone steps up and says, “enough.” Today, that person is going to be me.

The next time Derrick looks, I catch his gaze straight into mine, and I nod. Devlin is distracted, speaking into a device almost like a walkie-talkie. Clara the Wobbuffet is close by her side, warding off anyone who tries to get too close. No eavesdroppers allowed. Derrick must think that it’s important, though, since I have seen him try and fail repeatedly to put his ear just close enough to pick up a faint hint. Clara’s shielding gives it the appearance of banging his head into a wall sideways. But as soon as he sees my nod, he gives it up.

He walks right over, but the first words out of his mouth are a rather huffy, “we’re running out of time.”

“I know that,” I say, trying not to get annoyed with him straight off the bat. “You said you want my word that I’ll take you with us if we manage to escape?”

“When you escape,” he corrects me.

“Right, well, I would actually say yes if it weren’t for the fact that I have no idea how we’re actually going to be able to do that. So if you have anything up your sleeve, anything at all, now would be the time to say so.”

“Wait, seriously?” he asks.

“Aren’t you the one who was going on about how I’m too good not to care about the fact that somebody might die? Even if that person has been nothing but miserable to me in all the years I’ve known him and shows no real signs of ever being able to change that?”

“See, now it sounds like you’re going back on that supposed ‘yes’ of yours.”

I sigh. “I mean it, ok? Yeah, you’ve been pretty awful to me, and, you know what? I honestly don’t know if that’s ever going to change. But I do think there’s got to be a good person under there somewhere, even if none of that goodness is directed at me. Even if it isn’t directed at anyone, I guess. I think somewhere in there is a little boy who’s still hurting and heartbroken over his father. And maybe he feels like no one cares about him at all.”

“Shut up,” Derrick says in a voice that seems to be going for anger but instead comes out a little strangled. He turns his face away, trying to mask the gesture in a sneer of disgust, but I’ve done the same thing far too many times not to know that he is trying to hide something else.

“Well, I care about you today. So, come on, tell me what the plan is.”

He turns back. “You really promise?”

I wonder: About taking him with us or about caring about him?

“I promise,” I say solemnly.

“Devlin is bluffing,” Derrick says shortly.

“What?” I gasp.

Derrick snorts. “She doesn’t have a super secret Team Rocket gadget that can fry every circuit inside a pokéball. Team Rocket doesn’t even make stuff like that. Why would they when they’re so much more focused on overwriting fingerprint locks and other security features? They want to take the Pokémon inside the ball for themselves, not kill it.”

“I guess that does make sense,” I say slowly. But my heart still hammers in my chest when I think about taking a risk on Chica’s life on the word of a guy I have always known to be the very definition of untrustworthy.

Derrick smiles knowingly. “You still don’t believe me, do you? And you’re supposed to be so smart. Even your Jolteon saw it coming, you know. Remember the way he barked just as Devlin started to stick that thing inside your precious Chikorita’s pokéball? He wasn’t losing his temper, he was trying to warn you about her trick.”

“And how would you know what Chance was thinking?”

“He’s a Jolteon. I think they know a thing or two about electricity. See that little gray wire holding the pokéball around her neck?”

I nod.

“You see any insulation around it? You know, like a rubber coating or, well, anything besides a metal wire directly on the surface of her skin?”

“No.” The wheels in my brain are spinning, trying to see where he might be going with this. If he knows the things that I think that he should know, does that mean that I am really the one who knows this?

“If there was any kind of current travelling through that wire at all, it would be electrocuting her,” Derrick says shortly.

My mouth opens in surprise. Derrick is absolutely right.

“You’re welcome.” He turns and begins to walk away.

“Wait,” I say, “you just told me that Agent Devlin can’t use Chica as leverage anymore. That’s still a long way from knowing how to get past both her and that Wobbuffet. You haven’t told me what the plan is.”

He turns back. “I don’t have a plan. That’s your job. Just get it done.”

Just get it done? What am I? A hero or a magician? I stare at his retreating back. Then I shake it off and turn to Mary Ann.

“Did you get all of that?” I ask, knowing that she’s been watching quietly.

She nods.

“Go now.”

Her eyes light up, but she hesitates. She shakes her head.

“Goran will be waiting,” I point out. “I have to save Chica and the rest, but… What? What are you smiling about?”

“Hypno!” Goran bellows.

Devlin’s head turns, searching for the source of the commotion. It’s loud, but a little distant. It turns from a single cry into a rapid chattering. And then his voice is joined by others.

“Get over here! Get over here now!” Devlin screams into her almost-walkie-talkie.

A familiar yellow figure bursts out into the open, a series of glowing pink beams bursting out from his head. I can feel the telekinetic surge tingling on my skin at a distance of twenty feet before the Psychic attack has even been fully released. And it’s not aimed at me.

“Use Mirror Coat,” Devlin orders her Wobbuffet.

Clara raises her arms as if she’s hurling the psychic shield into position around her. The wiggling pink lines of energy bounce off like rubber bands hurled against a pane of glass and shatter apart harmlessly. But there’s a glint in Goran’s eye. Literally, a glimmer of light that seems to make the Wobbuffet flinch back.

With a flick of his wrist, a blade seems to pop out of his hand. He runs forward, Mary Ann extends her hands, and I shout as he brings the knife down swinging. The ropes that encircled her wrists fall to the ground, and I look for the rush of blood to accompany them, but there is none. The ropes split clean. He was moving, she was moving, neither slowed down for a second. He predicted the exact position of her hands and she the position of his knife, both moving in perfect harmony like two halves of the same body.

She thrusts a fist into the air just as the woods explode into life all around us to the tune of a hundred battle cries.


	46. All Out

Pidgey, Spearow, and Beedrill streak down out of the sky. Caterpie and Weedle slither out between every tree trunk. Mounds of dirt and grass move and shift underfoot as though a hundred tiny creatures are burrowing their way around.

 

A whole flock of Pidgeys flying in formation let out a collective screech that punctuates a steep dive. With beaks aimed at the soft bulbous head of Clara the Wobbuffet, they crash one by one into the shield put up by her Counter attack.

 

"No!" Goran cries out sharply, causing a second flock to pull up sharply. He glares at Clara with pure hatred and the same pink beams issue out from his forehead.

 

Clara twitches once, twice, and then is hit full force, swaying sharply back and then upright again in a motion like a punching bag.

 

"Clara?" Agent Devlin asks.

 

Birds circle overhead, Weedles pause with red noses quivering. Even the mounds of earth have ceased to move since Goran last cried out. This is an army that he raised, but it stands confused without the orders that he has no time to give. But he has a plan, and now I understand. That glint in his eye from earlier...

 

"Goran used Disable on her!" I shout. "Use special attacks, not physical!"

 

A nearby Spearow lets out a chattering, "Rro-ow?"

 

I look around and spot more Pokémon dashing out of the woods to join them. "Pikachu, use Thunder Shock! Psyduck, Water Gun or Confusion. Those of you who don't have special attacks, show me some stat reducers. Caterpie and Weedle, give me your best String Shot! Spearow, use Leer if you've got it! Diglett, if you're under there, disrupt the ground somehow."

 

Spearow nods at me and takes off, just as the rest of the Pokémon do the same. Within five seconds, Clara's covered in so much string it looks like webbing. A Pikachu's Thunder Shock catches up in the stream of water issuing from Psyduck's long flat bill, and the Wobbuffet is knocked back once more by an electrified Water Gun attack.

 

"Did you organize this?" Agent Devlin asks me. "Put a stop to it right now."

 

She raises her fingers to the wire around her neck threateningly.

 

"Or what?" I ask defiantly.

 

Her eyes widen.

 

"I know about your trick."

 

Agent Devlin looks right, to the Wobbuffet staggering under yet another Psychic attack from Goran, looks left, to the swarms of Rattata, Slowpoke, and Poliwhirl joining in the attack, and takes off running.

 

"Rattata, Tackle!" I shout, thrusting a finger at the beleaguered blue Pokémon as I take off after her.

 

I leap over the confused rat Pokémon, only hoping that it will take my instructions to heart.

 

As I close the distance, I shout, "Goran!"

 

Out of the corner of my eye, a small flash of light, and then I'm performing a tackle of my own. Counter disabled, Agent Devlin and I crash to the forest floor. Thrown onto her face, she tries to use her hands to catch herself, but the support collapses under my added weight. I hit slightly off center and hiss in pain as my left knee crashes into a rock. But my hands are up, ripping the wire off from around her neck. Raising myself up, I yank it out from the holes drilled into the sides of Chica's pokéball and pop it open to find the fake device stuck on with no more adhesive than a post it note. I fling it away, pop the ball back closed, and throw it up, all without leaving my perch atop Agent Devlin's back.

 

"Ka!" Chica shouts, enraged before she even takes in what her surroundings are. No time to explain to her right now.

 

"Where are the others?" I ask Devlin.

 

She turns her face to the side and glares at me, but within seconds it turns into one of her little smiles. "They're coming."

 

The sound echoes through the woods: "Prepare for trouble..."

 

I spot her walkie-talkie device lying on the ground and shift just enough to snatch it up and wave it in her face. "Call them off."

 

"No."

 

Derrick runs up and shoves me to the ground, ripping off the wide gray belt Devlin wears over her uniform. He reaches inside a large pocket and pulls out a pile of pokéballs.

 

"Here." He tosses me a pokéball with a question mark sticker first, followed by a Lure ball and a Safari ball.

 

The others he tosses straight up into the air all at once. A group of Rattata scamper out of the way as the outlines of huge Pokémon begin to materialize all around him. Heracross flies up into the air with rapid beats of its translucent wings. Exeggutor dashes off to the side on legs like tree trunks. Giant Tyranitar shakes his head violently and swipes with his claws to make tree branches crack and fall to the ground like javelins, trying to make space for himself to stand. Typhlosion joins him, standing a foot shorter, roaring as he casts his head from side to side. Alakazam teleports away the branches one by one in rapid succession, taking each one just before it spears through soft worm or caterpillar flesh. Then she teleports away herself just in time to avoid the massive water dragon that crashes to the ground, twisting and flopping madly, knocking two Pidgey out of the air with a single accidental swipe of his fan-like tail. One pokéball crashes to the ground as just a pokéball.

 

Derrick swears, jumping back with Devlin, Chica, and me as the horn on Gyarados's head sweeps through, accompanied by an agonizing moan.

 

"He needs water! Return him before he suffocates!" I shout.

 

"Alakazam, teleport me away from here!" Sweat drips down his forehead, and he shakes like someone in a panic as the chanting of the Team Rocket motto grows louder.

 

Alakazam teleports a pokéball into his hand instead. Gyarados disappears inside, and he crams it into his pocket without even bothering to shrink it.

 

"Now!"

 

Alakazam teleports directly in front of him, staring straight into his eyes. He turns tail and runs.

 

"Derrick, you can't just leave your Pokémon like that! Derrick!"

 

I hear a voice call out, "Attack!"

 

And then everything is chaos. I thought it was chaos before. Nope. Not even close.

 

Alakazam teleports Pidgey, Spearow, Rattata, even Diglett off in droves as Typhlosion takes off like a cannonball with no regard for the Pokémon he might run over. The path in front of him magically clears seconds before his feet smash down.

 

"Water Gun!"

 

"Rock Throw!"

 

"Focus Punch!"

 

Ten different Team Rocket grunts yell out ten different instructions, but their combined results don't even slow Typhlosion down. I catch a glimpse of black uniforms flying into the bushes to get away from him just before I turn back to see Agent Devlin snatching up the unopened pokéball and returning her fainted Wobbuffet.

 

"Over here!" she screams. "Can I get some backup?"

 

Chica growls, lunging at her just as a two-foot tall pokéball with eyes rolls up in front of me. Changing course at the last second, she smacks it away so that the attack intended to paralyze me flies up into the air and makes a Ledyba's wings stiffen up like glass.

 

Devlin runs into the fray, and a Hitmonlee runs into the gap opened by her absence and straight back. I swing my head back to see Goran standing in front of Mary Ann like a shield. He readies another Psychic attack with the Hitmonlee's name on it, and I turn again.

 

Derrick's Pokémon are on the move, pushing deeper into the fray. I toss out Chance and Serendipity's pokéballs into the space vacated by Exeggutor and duck behind Tyranitar to escape a stream of fire. He roars as the heat grazes his chest and shifts his humongous clawed feet.

 

"There, the Magmar!" I shout, catching sight of the Pokémon responsible.

 

The dinosaur-like Pokémon roars and bares its powerful jaws as it crouches down.

 

"No, not Bite! Rock Slide! Rock Slide!" I shout.

 

I feel like a spectator watching a televised football game. I see the type match ups, the move combinations, the strategies, but the most powerful players on the field do not belong to me. So I'm shocked when Tyranitar bends down still further, buries a clawed hand deep into the ground, and comes up with a fist full of rocks.

 

I whip my head to the side and see Derrick's Heracross facing off against a Hitmonchan.

 

"Alakazam, help him out! Heracross, try that Gloom right behind you!"

 

"Pidgey, Spearow, Rattata, Caterpie! All the low level Pokémon! Stop going after damage and switch to stat reducers! You can chip away at their health bit by bit or you can slow them down, take the bite out of their attacks, and lower their defenses so the high levels can hit twice as hard. Effects if you've got them. Sleep, paralysis, poison..."

 

I turn around and around, shouting out orders to any Pokémon I see. Chica, Chance, Serendipity, and Goran form a tight circle around Mary Ann and I, completed by enormous Tyranitar at the front. Again and again, the battle pushes toward us, and again and again our five protectors drive off the assault. This battle won't end until all of Team Rocket's Pokémon are fainted or until Mary Ann or I are captured to force surrender.

 

A bird Pokémon streaks past my head. Not Pidgey, not Spearow, not one of ours.

 

"Chance!" I call out automatically, but instead of sending out a jolt of electricity, the Jolteon looks up and barks.

 

"Chance?"

 

"Jolt!"

 

I look up as the bird comes in for another pass and catch a hint of green. That bird is carrying a stick inside its beak. He whips it out midair, gliding with one wing as the other bears the stick on a collision course with a Jigglypuff that was sneaking up on us.

 

"Kyu?"

 

"Scyther on your left! Peck!" I hear a voice yell out.

 

"Elliot?"

 

"I'd call your name back if you had one but I can't!" he calls back in a single breath. "Maria, you're on backup!"

 

"You're alive?" I lose track of a whole string of commands as tears spring to my eyes.

 

"You thought I was dead?"

 

I still can't see him; the battle is constant chaos. He's somewhere there, behind the Team Rocket members running for cover from Typhlosion's wrath and the Diglett popping out of the ground like trip wires. He calls out another instruction to Maria, and I realize that he's moved.

 

Now, right now while I'm sure he can still hear me, while all this emotion is bubbling up inside me, I feel an overpowering urge to shout something to him.

 

The first words to pop into my mind, the perfect words to describe everything I'm feeling at this very moment: "You are such an idiot!" I scream them with everything I've got.

 

And somehow, over all the din, I can hear his laughter. It gets clearer and clearer, not like he's getting closer but like everything else is fading away. I look back and see the forest changing. Long branches trim into perfect alignment. Oak and ash trees change to evergreen. Every tree beyond a certain point is perfect cookie cutter. Copy upon copy of the same collection of pixels in a common color scheme. The Gold and Silver Zone is advancing like a wave.

 

I can see it moving, rushing forward faster than I've ever seen it rush before. It reaches the edges of the battle, and suddenly Pokémon are disappearing. Third generation and up first, the Pokémon that "don't exist yet" in this version, like Nuzleaf and Sneasel. Half second delay, and then every Pokémon owned by Team Rocket is vanishing, along with their masters. Wild Pokémon don't vanish but fly and scamper off into the woods. Frightened?

 

The line advances, and Elliot pops into sight at last, mouth gaping open. By his side is a Vaporeon.

 

No Team Rocket here. Not in the woods outside Viridian, where the video game player never was allowed to go. Not in Viridian City at all.

 

"Are we...?" I ask, just as Elliot begins to say, "Does this mean...?"

 

Then the wave finally sweeps past the last of them. Or what I thought was the last of them. Way back at the edge of the former battleground, on the side closest to Viridian City, a lone figure stands. A man in an expensive-looking business suit. A man I recognize far too well.

 

My breath is kicked out of me as I remember the feeling of his hand on my chin, the cold look in his eyes as he examined me like an object he had acquired.

 

As Giovanni locks those same eyes onto me again, it feels as though he's saying, "You belong to me now."


	47. Do We Have a Deal?

"I'll make you a deal," Giovanni says slowly. "You battle well, girl. Face me. If you can win, I'll let you and your friends escape with your lives."

 

He walks forward slowly, balancing a pokéball in his palm.

 

"If you lose," he continues, "you will tell me everything I want to know."

 

"And then you'll let us go?" Elliot asks hopefully.

 

I shoot him a look of disbelief.

 

He shrugs his shoulders. "What? I had to try."

 

"Oh no," Giovanni says smoothly. "I hardly think I'm going to let you go so long as I have Pokémon still fighting. That isn't part of the deal, you understand. Just business."

 

"And why should I accept?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. "Three on one, we could defeat your Pokémon and leave whether you like it or not. Why should we lower our odds by laying all our hopes on my Pokémon alone?"

 

"You will not be lowering your odds at all. I am a businessman and a gentleman, and I uphold my deals as such. If you agree, I will allow you to heal your Pokémon before we begin and follow the standard rules of battle. If you fail to appeal to my good nature, however, I'm sure you will find out just how much of a villain I can be."

 

"You would force our Pokémon to fight to the death," I say flatly.

 

"A waste of perfectly good Pokémon." Giovanni waves his hands lazily. "No, I would merely beat them to within an inch of death and force them to watch while I torture you."

 

I grit my teeth. "You monster."

 

Elliot looks back and forth. "Face me instead."

 

I know what he's thinking. His Pokémon are stronger. He's probably even managed to defeat the seventh gym leader by now.

 

"No. The girl alone or no deal at all."

 

He looks at me with a smile and slowly extends the hand not holding the pokéball. I step forward and, in spite of worried looks from both Elliot and Mary Ann, extend my own to meet it. I shake his hand, but I can't help wrinkling my nose in disgust even as I do so. 

 

He only chuckles lightly. "Five minutes."

 

I turn and walk back to Elliot, Mary Ann, and the Pokémon still gathered.

 

"You have a plan, right?" Elliot asks with a slight tremble in his voice. "Please tell me you have a plan."

 

"Gold and Silver, Gold and Silver, Gold and Silver," I mutter.

 

"Because if all we have to look forward to is spilling our guts followed by the enslavement of our temporarily healthy Pokémon and a nice clean death for us, I am really not on board with that. You know that, right? I really do not want to end up dead today."

 

"I'm trying to remember the rules for Gold and Silver," I hiss. "That's a whole different collection of move sets to remember, abilities to forget, and, most importantly, if I can just think hard enough, I might be able to remember what Pokémon Giovanni has and what levels they're supposed to be at. So shut up, let me think, and show Mary Ann how to use the Full Restores I packed in my messenger bag before we left Saffron."

 

His eyes drop.

 

I look at him carefully and lower my voice. "Use them on Derrick's Pokémon, too."

 

Elliot's eyebrows raise, but whether in a sudden revelation or merely in surprise, I couldn't say. He walks back over to where Mary Ann is already thumbing through the entries on my messenger bag's remote control, but as soon as she sees him coming, she looks up, signs something so quickly I can't make it out, and throws her arms around him. He stiffens in shock, then returns the embrace. I can't see the look on his face right now, but Mary Ann is blushing.

 

I turn around to regain focus. And find Chica at my feet. She looks at Derrick's Pokémon, huddled in a group around Typhlosion, and points out each one individually with the tip of her leaf. One: she points to Typhlosion, still enraged and shooting flames out of his back to even more than their usual height. Two: she points to Exeggutor, the walking palm tree. Three: Alakazam, watching calmly. Four: a Rhydon standing where there was formerly a Tyranitar. Five: the Pidgeot on its back replacing Heracross. And then she turns the leaf around and jabs it at her own face. Six.

 

She's telling me she knows my plan, and she wants in. Fair enough, without Derrick's Gyarados, I do need a sixth member. I nod, and she nearly bursts with joy. She runs around gathering scattered pokéballs and flinging them towards me one by one. Mary Ann and Elliot go from Pokémon to Pokémon, dumping on Full Restores that heal like magic, and I point the pokéballs and watch them zoom back in.

 

Just as I thought, Derrick's Pokémon are stolen. These pokéballs have gotten the Team Rocket treatment, and now they will work for anybody.

 

Very carefully, I slip Unicorn, Serendipity, Chance, and Mystique's pokéballs out of my belt and into my pockets, making space instead for the Pokémon I have "borrowed". I smile. There's a certain poetic justice in using Pokémon stolen by Team Rocket to take down Team Rocket.

 

If I can take Giovanni down. I've just realized why I can't remember him properly from Gold and Silver. Giovanni wasn't in it. Only mentioned. Derrick's team has transitioned from its Fire Red/Leaf Green state back into its earlier one, but Giovanni's? And the bigger problem: are Derrick's Pokémon even going to listen to me?

 

I take a deep breath. It doesn't matter. Giovanni said that we keep our lives if I win this battle. What he really meant, of course, was that he can't kill us without his Pokémon as backup. Without them, he will be alone and powerless. I don't just want to win this battle and stay alive. I want to be free from him forever. I want this to end. And Giovanni's not the only one who can make a secretly lopsided bargain.

 

"I'm ready," I tell him with as much confidence as I can project.

 

He's clearly spent the last five minutes upholding his end of the bargain by drawing up a regulation battlefield perfect to within legal specifications. Sticks driven into the ground mark the four corners, and rocks have been placed at regular intervals along the sides. I'm not used to thinking of him as a gym leader, much less a good one, but he's clearly put his expertise to work here.

 

"I'll take it easy on you to start," he says as he pulls out the pokéball he intends to use.

 

I reach for the one Pokémon besides Chica that I'm sure will listen to me. Well, pretty sure. Maybe 90%? I hope it's 90%.

 

"3, 2, 1!"

 

Giovanni's pokéball pops open to reveal a Kangaskhan, a sturdy brown Pokémon with a pouch like a kangaroo. My pokéball brings out Alakazam.

 

"Mega Punch," Giovanni orders.

 

"Teleport away," I counter, stalling for time as I try to remember what Alakazam's standard attacks are in generation two. If I could get a fighting move, that would be super effective.

 

Alakazam only turns around to look at me. The Kangaskhan pummels the back of her head with a white-clawed fist and sends her toppling.

 

Giovanni laughs. "Did you just call out a move that's not in her battle set?"

 

Battle set? Shoot, are we really in a place where Pokémon can only use four moves now? Even if I know the list for the species, how am I supposed to know which ones those are?

 

Well, it's a good guess that she's at least got: "Psychic!"

 

Alakazam turns her head back. I breathe out a silent sigh of relief as the familiar wavy pink beams that Goran has been using float out from her forehead. They strike directly onto the black plate covering Kangaskan's head from the top to just below the nose, and the creature stumbles on her two thick legs.

 

Other attacks?

 

"Bite," Giovanni orders calmly.

 

A dark type attack on a psychic Pokémon? Not good.

 

"Disable?" I call hopefully.

 

Kangaskhan rips a chunk out of Alakazam's chest, but I see a glint pass before her eye. Thanks to Goran once again, I'm sure the Kangaskhan won't be using that move again. But then again, I remember, Bite is actually a special attack in this generation. Kangaskhan's special attack stat is naturally low while an Alakazam's special defense is naturally higher. And Kangaskan won't get a same type attack bonus on it like it did with Mega Punch. That might have actually been a mistake.

 

My head spins with facts, trying to put together the strategies piece by piece completely on the fly with unfamiliar Pokémon in the context of a set of battle rules I haven't played under in years.

 

Giovanni switches to Dizzy Punch, then back to Mega. Both attacks hit because, well, I guess because they would hit in the video game. Dodge? What is this foreign concept of which you speak?

 

Thankfully, Derrick's Alakazam knows Recover, which lets her heal after the first, but the second is so powerful that Alakazam looks just as terrible as she did before regaining health.

 

I bite my lip. I have to switch her out. If there's one Pokémon Giovanni is famous for, it's Nidoking, and Psychic will work on him twice as well as on this Kangaskhan. If she can survive his first attack. Do I want to take the chance that she will be able to use Recover in time when I call her out against him?

 

I turn the pokéball towards her and pull out the next one only with a great amount of hesitation.

 

"What are you waiting for, girl?"

 

I bite my lip and throw. Typhlosion bursts out with a roar of flame. As he lets out a roar that's a little bit more vocal, I rush back to where I left my messenger bag and fumble for the remote. I swipe my fingers across the touch screen quickly, dragging the Full Recover icon into the menu for the special little pocket in the front, just big enough to fit the pokéball that I pop in. My messenger bag is not a Pokémon Center, but if it can pop the Full Restore into existence inside the pokéball... I drag one icon on top of the other, and it disappears.

 

But before I can pull Alakazam's pokéball back out, I hear a loud crack. Typhlosion has Giovanni's Kangaskhan rammed right up against a tree on the edge of the battlefield. The result of a Quick Attack? But, then, why is he holding Kangaskhan pinned?

 

"Dizzy Punch," Giovanni orders. Then, "again."

 

Typhlosion just stares at her as she punches once, then twice, right on the bridge of his nose. The second one makes blood pour out, staining the lips pulled back into a snarl and dripping down onto his teeth.

 

"What are you doing? Flame Wheel!" I call out.

 

He ignores me, continuing to glare. Does he really think that now is the best time to be using Leer?

 

"Mega Punch," Giovani tries.

 

Typhlosion bellows in pain as yet another attack lands.

 

"Flame Wheel!"

 

And he actually listens to me. Although, as I watch the fire on his back grow higher and higher, I get the feeling that he was really just planning this all along. He inhales deep and throws flames out of his mouth like a dragon, blowing so that they curl and spin like a wheel rolling forward, a wheel that flattens Kangaskhan completely.

 

"Critical hit?" is all the leader of Team Rocket can say as his Pokémon's charred body collapses at the roots of the tree that it was pinned to.

 

I say "was" because the instant Typhlosion breathed his fire, it became clear that he had other plans. He's charging forward into another Quick Attack, a Quick Attack without a target. No, scratch that. A quick attack without a fair target. The Pokémon that Team Rocket stole is out for revenge. And it looks like killing Team Rocket's leader is the first step on his list.


	48. This Chapter is Super Long but Super Good

For a split second, I feel like cheering Derrick's Pokémon on. I want pain to come to the man who hurt me and my friends, the man who is cold-hearted and evil and leads hundreds of others down the same path. His death frees us. His death severs the organization's head.

 

Even with his back to me, I can see the blood flying off Typhlosion's face. I can hear the animalistic growling and snapping of his teeth. He wants to kill and tear and eviscerate. This is blind rage.

 

The split second passes as the flames on his back sputter upwards, and my mind leaps from flame to fire to the scream of being burned alive, Chica's howl of agony the day the Growlithe turned its breath on her transformed into a man's.

 

"No!" I rip the pokéball out of my belt and turn it just as Typhlosion lunges. 

 

In a flash of light, he's gone, and Giovanni comes back into sight beyond the newly empty space. He looks at me and laughs.

 

"I see now. I see everything. These Pokémon are not yours at all. That Typhlosion is a Pokémon I recognize. Filled with uncontrollable bloodlust. And you. You stopped it from attacking me." He laughs again. "How can you hope to ever win weighed down as you are by all these principles?"

 

I ignore his question, my mind still stuck on "a Pokémon I recognize". I ask, "What did you do to that Typhlosion?"

 

"Increased its power through artificial means." He shrugs. "I will admit that our technique is far from perfect, but—"

 

"You forced him to evolve?" I screech. "Like the Gyarados at Lake Rage? You... You..."

 

Giovanni interrupts before I can find a word. "How do you know of our experiments at Lake Rage?"

 

I shut my mouth.

 

"I always knew you had a secret source of information. Tell me, which one of my underlings is double crossing me?" He pauses, examining my reaction. "Or is it something worse? Just as I suspected, there's something different about you. Your death may have to be postponed until my scientists have had their fill with you. I can think of any number of experiments I might enjoy."

 

I shiver convulsively, trying not to picture what he might mean. My skin feels like it's covered in tiny Spinarak skittering over every surface. "Are we going to continue this battle?"

 

"Of course, of course." Giovanni chuckles. "And I must say that you have an impressive command to successfully order Pokémon that do not belong to you. However, I am afraid that it will not be enough."

 

All I say is, "Three."

 

He takes the hint and joins me in saying, "Two, one!"

 

Two more pokéballs fly, Pidgeot for me and Murkrow for him. Pidgeot is a familiar Pokémon, the final evolution of the Pidgey that fly all across the region. It was a Pidgeot that saved me in the Central Forest when I was slowly dying of poison and blood loss. Derrick's looks at me with sharp eyes before taking to the air with the long feathers of its head fluttering out behind.

 

Murkrow is a dark Pokémon, both by color and by type. It's a second generation Pokémon, from the Johto region, just like Chica. It sort of looks like a crow with an over-puffed tail wearing a hat. Only the hat is made of feathers. Or is that from the shape of its skull? Who can say? What I do know is that Giovanni didn't have one in any of the games I played. And I've played them all.

 

Well, no type advantages here, but no disadvantages, either.

 

"Wing Attack," I call to start.

 

"Night Shade," Giovanni counters.

 

Pidgeot swoops in, bashing the crow Pokémon with the bone at the front of his wing, but in the next second he screeches in response to something unseen. Both Pokémon take a steep nose dive before regaining control.

 

"Again," we both order at once.

 

Another mid-air collision, and even before it's over, I order, "Quick Attack!"

 

Giovanni calls out an attack as well, but it's too late. Both Pokémon would have fainted at the next attack, but Pidgeot has the advantage of speed. As soon as their skulls connect midair, Giovanni has turned his pokéball to return Murkrow. The bird doesn't even have time to prove that it's fainted.

 

His next Pokémon is a face I recognize: Nidoqueen. It's huge, dinosaur-like, covered in tough scales and back spikes laced with poison. It's the female counterpart of the Nidoking Giovanni is best known for.

 

"Squash it with a Body Slam," he orders. And she does.

 

One oversized fist swipes through the air as Pidgeot passes by, and Derrick's bird Pokémon flies no more.

 

I call out Rhydon. A rhinoceros with a drill on the end of its nose, this Pokémon is the evolved form of the lumbering beast I saw in the Safari Zone on the day I first met Serendipity. It seems like so long ago since I was stuck in that little town with no way out, but I'm still fighting for the same things.

 

Technically, I've only lost one Pokémon so far while he's down two, but, let's face it, Typhlosion is unusable. And Alakazam is still back inside my messenger bag. According to official rules, I'm not even sure if I can retrieve her. So while I have just three Pokémon left on hand, one of which is at less than half the level of the others, Giovanni is just starting to break into his big hitters.

 

I order an attack I'm pretty sure a Rhydon of this level would know: "Rock Slide."

 

"Double Kick."

 

Nidoqueen's attack comes in first, pummeling Rhydon's bulky gray side with a clawed foot that swings in twice. She pulls in her huge round ears as the shower of rocks rains down but emerges with just a small collection of dented scales.

 

I frown. It's a bit of a risk, but, "Take Down!"

 

Rhydon doesn't move.

 

"Stomp?" I try instead. Still nothing.

 

Nidoqueen lands another Double Kick.

 

"Horn Attack." Nothing. "Come on, you have to know at least one of those! What kind of moves did Derrick teach you?"

 

Giovanni laughs as Nidoqueen kicks again. Rhydon is looking bad. He hunches his back spastically and moans.

 

"Rock Slide, Rock Slide!" I say, returning to the one attack I'm sure he knows.

 

The attack hits, but it's not enough to save him. A Body Slam pushes Rhydon to the ground with a hundred and thirty pounds of blue reptile on top of him. He doesn't move when she gets up.

 

"Derrick, you are going to get us killed," I mutter. I can feel myself beginning to sweat now. Exeggcute and Chica against Giovanni's two strongest Pokémon? And possibly two more? There's no guarantee he has a full six Pokémon, but why wouldn't he?

 

I don't even care what Giovanni thinks. I run back to get Alakazam.

 

When she comes back out, I have just one word for her: "Psychic."

 

Just as I anticipated, it hits hard. Nidoqueen takes a wobbling turn, like she's suddenly uncertain of her footing. She stops and clutches clawed hands to her head, but at her trainer's command she still manages to perform another Body Slam. The next Psychic makes her sink into unconsciousness, but Alakazam isn't looking her best, either.

 

For the first time in the match, Giovanni is smiling. "My last Pokémon, but it is my best. Opponents very rarely get this far in battle with me. You should be proud."

 

"I'll be proud after I win," I shoot back.

 

He only smiles wider and throws out the pokéball. "Nidoking, Thrash."

 

Nidoqueen's male counterpart, scaled in royal purple instead of blue, a few inches taller and sporting larger teeth. He has the same tough hide, the same round ears, the same collection of poisoned spikes, and the same powerful tail that can act as a weapon all its own. He surges forward with everything he's got, pounding Alakazam's thin yellow body with fists like mallets, feet tipped with sections hard as bone, and a tail said to be able to snap telephone poles like matchsticks. Thrash makes Nidoking descend into a frenzy that only ceases when he is gasping for breath and Alakazam is a broken and bleeding pile of flesh and bone. She coughs, wheezing in air with a simultaneous contortion of pain. I think he broke a couple of her ribs.

 

"That was unnecessary," I snarl as I send her speeding back into her pokéball.

 

Giovanni's face doesn't change. "It's a legal move. Send out your next Pokémon."

 

I grit my teeth again. Exeggutor appears. I've seen its previous form before, when I battled Derrick in front of Silph Co. It was just a collection of eggs on the ground then. Now it's a creature with three round, egg-like heads on a body that looks almost like a tree trunk, except for the fact that it's too thick and rounded. It has two thick legs with spiked toes and a plume of green leaves atop its heads, making it resemble a walking palm tree.

 

Like all of Derrick's other Pokémon, I'm sure it's at a high level, but, as a species, Exeggutor are weak when it comes to attack power. Based on that last Thrash attack, Giovanni's Nidoking is at a higher level, and that scaly armor gives him great defense. It's going to be difficult to do a lot of damage, but I do know of one attack that doesn't depend on attack power or strength of defense.

 

"Start off with a Leech Seed!"

 

I can feel the stress building up in my chest as the tiny green seeds launch themselves out from somewhere within Exeggutor's wave of palm leaves and plant themselves in tiny cracks between Nidoking's scales. Yes, literally plant themselves. They're so tiny that it's impossible to see, but those seeds are pushing roots through skin and muscle, sucking up blood the way a normal plant brings in water. From this point on, Nidoking's strength will slowly be sapped away and given to the seeds, which somehow strengthens the creature from which they came.

 

It's a good trick, but will it be enough? For all intents and purposes, I'm down to my last Pokémon. Can Exeggutor singlehandedly defeat Nidoking at his full power?

 

As Nidoking continues the Thrash attack that he started on Alakazam, the answer seems to be no. Exeggutor emerges from the beating with visible red marks all across its body and several leaves torn to shreds. One of its three heads sports a swollen eye.

 

I feel a lump in my throat as I shout out the best attack I know: "Egg Bomb."

 

Instead of tiny seeds, brown spheres the size of coconuts come raining out, spattering against Nidoking even as he charges into the next attack. Both attacks do significant damage, but both Pokémon emerge in fair fighting shape even now.

 

Nidoking steps back, getting a glazed look in his eye that makes me sigh in relief. He's fought so hard that he's exhausted himself into a state of confusion. He looks around uncertainly, like he's trying to readjust to his surroundings.

 

"Horn Attack," Giovanni orders.

 

But instead of lowering his head and charging, the purple reptilian trips over his own feet and fails to catch himself on the way down. That's going to do some damage. And Exeggutor's second Egg Bomb does some more. But it's still not enough.

 

The next Horn Attack does hit, driving Nidoking's forehead spike deep into Exeggutor's trunk-like torso and seeping blood on its way out.

 

Both Pokémon are breathing heavily, both sporting multiple injuries. Nidoking's scales are slick with blood and dented from the force of the Egg Bombs. Four out of six of Exeggutor's eyes look droopy, and the other two are swollen shut. I imagine that if it had arms, it would be holding its side at the place where the horn pierced through it. Even so, neither Pokémon is giving up yet.

 

"Hold on, Exeggutor, please!" I plead. "You know what to do."

 

Exeggutor turns to me and nods, unleashing yet another Egg Bomb. More damage. Not enough. Nidoking drives a second hole into its chest, and it wobbles unsteadily.

 

"Hold on!" I shout.

 

Somehow, impossibly, it maintains its footing.

 

"I could knock that Pokémon over myself," Giovanni remarks. "I see no need to exhaust my Nidoking any further. Give it a tackle."

 

"One more. Please." But I know it's not enough. Nidoking is weakened, but even one more Egg Bomb will not bring him down.

 

I know that, but, to my surprise, Exeggutor doesn't even try. It tilts its heads back to look up to the sky and spreads its remaining shreds of leaves wide.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

As Nidoking's powerful body tackles it to the ground, rays of sunlight pierce through the canopy above.

 

"Sunny Day?" Elliot says from somewhere behind me. "Did Exeggutor just use Sunny Day?"

 

It's a move that makes the sun shine more brightly, reducing the power of water moves, which makes no sense here, and increasing the power of fire moves.

 

"It wants me to finish the battle with Typhlosion," I realize aloud.

 

Can I even do that?

 

I pull Exeggutor's pokéball out slowly, stalling for time. Nidoking is still standing. Strong enough to resist an attack from Exeggutor, but how would it fare against the raging bloodlust of the Pokémon that is surely Derrick's most powerful? Would it even try to defend its master? Or would even calling him out turn this battle into a murder?

 

I can't do that. I can't risk it. If any person died as a direct result of my choices, it sounds crazy, but I think that I would rather die myself. Because if I turn into the person who has done something like that, I won't be able to live with myself anyway.

 

As I stick Exeggutor's pokéball away, still stalling for time, my breaths come hard and fast. Forfeit. I'll have to forfeit the battle. To save the life of a man I hate, I will be forced to throw myself on the mercy that he doesn't have.

 

But as my hand brushes across my pokéball belt, I remember that there are two pokéballs there whose occupants are fit to battle. Chica would never forgive me if I didn't give her the chance to try. If something happens to me, I want her to go on knowing that she did absolutely everything she could.

 

So I call out a level 20 Chikorita against what I assume to be a level 65 Nidoking that could destroy her with one swipe of his tail.

 

Giovanni eyes the Everstone around her neck, probably wondering the same thing as everyone who sees it.

 

I close my eyes. "If I take it off, she'll evolve into a Bayleef and no further. She's," I pause to swallow, "barely even strong enough for that."

 

Giovanni says nothing.

 

I open my eyes to look at him. "I know you don't want to kill her, so please."

 

Now he nods. "Good business sense. That Chikorita will be far more valuable to me than its power would suggest once I claim it in the name of Team Rocket. You will be dead when we are finished with you, but the people will remember you, girl with the Chikorita. The Pokémon you are so known for will be useful even as a trophy, and I plan to use her for so much more."

 

"Chikorita!" Chica bellows at the top of her lungs. She turns to me with a look of disbelief.

 

"All the others are done," I explain through tears. "I just want you to give it your best attack, ok?"

 

Her eyes narrow with anger that turns to rage as she twists her head up to face her impossible opponent.

 

"Only Tackle it slowly, Nidoking," Giovanni cautions.

 

Nidoking's face reflects something like annoyance and moves forward with what seems to be exaggerated slowness.

 

Meanwhile, Chica has extended the leaf on her head to its full length in preparation for her Razor Leaf attack. Under her breath, she growls continuously, not as an attack, but as a display of anger. The smell coming from her is so horrible I don't even recognize it, but in more concentrated form I think it would be enough to knock a person out all by itself. The breeze blows it towards Giovanni, who coughs. Made newly fresh and green by the Full Restore that's finally cured the last of her injuries, she stands in a patch of sunlight.

 

And then her leaf begins to glow. That's not a Razor Leaf attack.

 

The light grows into a white hot disk that erupts into a searing beam that strikes Nidoking directly in the chest. I close my eyes against the light, but even with the lids to protect against the brightness, it's like staring into the sun. I bring up my hands to cover them as well and still see the insides of my eyelids as red. When it finally begins to darken, I lower my hands, open my eyes, and gape at the sight that meets me.

 

Nidoking is lying face first on the ground, and Chica is standing on top of him, her front paws raised majestically against the purple ridge of his spikes.

 

"Chikorita," she proclaims proudly.

 

"That's impossible," Giovanni growls. "Nidoking, get up, you can't be done already."

 

"Um, he looks pretty out of it to me," I pipe up. The stress built up inside courses out of my system, and I laugh. "Chica! Chica! That was so amazing! Where did you learn to do a Solar Beam like that?"

 

Chica jumps off of the fainted Nidoking and runs into my arms. I bring my head down to her leaf and inhale deeply the scent of lavender mixed with sweet peas.

 

Giovanni returns his Pokémon with a growl. "Fine, you've earned the right to leave here with your lives, but the next time we meet, you will not be so fortunate."

 

I set Chica down and rise back to my feet. "No. You are not going to come after me or my friends any more. I've proven that I am stronger than you fair and square, and I do not plan on letting you leave here until Team Rocket is dismantled and you've given me your word as an 'honest businessman' that all of the illegal activity stops now."

 

"Those are some large demands, little girl. What do you plan to do with me if I refuse? Kill me? And if I walk away from here right now, will you stop me? Hold me as your prisoner forever? No, you're unwilling to do any of those things because of your useless principles. Worse than useless, they hold you back. Cast them aside and join me. I will make you Team Rocket's second in command, and together we will obtain everything you've ever dreamed of having."

 

My face curls. "If you think that I would ever join Team Rocket, you are completely out of your mind."

 

"So what does it come down to?" Giovanni asks. "As I said, you are not going to hold me prisoner here forever, and I am not going to give you what you want. I have no Pokémon to protect me, it's true, but unless you are willing to turn your Pokémon on me..."

 

I frown deeply, but shake my head. Do I really just let him go? After all of this? Is there really no other option?

 

"And she doesn't have to." Elliot steps forward, and, looking at him for the first time since the battle started, I notice that he's holding a shiny silver phone in his hands. He turns it around, and I can see a screen on the other side, showing his face as he continues to speak. "I just caught everything on tape. The entire battle, everything you said, and especially how you just admitted to being the leader of Team Rocket. Doesn't look so good for you, does it?"

 

"You've been videotaping me?" I screech.

 

Giovanni's face turns completely red. He runs across the battlefield and snatches at the phone, only to be pushed back by a blast of water.

 

"Ah, ah, ah," Elliot says teasingly. "Somebody's forgetting about my Gla—, er, Vaporeon. You're not getting a hold of this. Besides, it's too late anyway, this is a video call between me and my good friend Dr. Clark. He's a scientist in Pewter City. And, oh, I don't know, somewhere at about two minutes in he hooked up a connection to the Lavender Town Radio Tower."

 

"You mean this has been broadcast to the entire Kanto region?" Giovanni asks.

 

"Johto, too, I think. Not sure." Elliot shrugs. "Either way, I think you're going to have to agree to my friend's demands or you'll be facing a lot of angry people and Pokémon who may be far less 'principled' than us. You want to take that risk?"

 

"I'll have to give up everything," Giovanni rages. "Do you have any idea what that means to me?"

 

"No," Elliot replies simply.

 

Giovanni growls again, looks at me, looks at the camera, and says, "Fine. Team Rocket is officially disbanded. To any of my followers who might be watching this, all of your illegal activities are to cease immediately."

 

"And me and my friends?" I press.

 

Giovanni scowls. "And you are to leave the girl with the Chikorita and her friends in peace."

 

"Elliot, turn the camera so they can see exactly who he means."

 

He turns it first to me. I look into the camera, imagining all the Team Rocket grunts on the other end who need to get the message and trying not to think about all the other people who are probably going to adore me now more than ever before. Then he turns it to Mary Ann, who gives a wave. Finally, he turns it on himself and gives his biggest, goofiest grin.

 

"Satisfied?" Giovanni demands.

 

"I think so, yes."

 

He storms off into the woods without another word. Probably headed back to Viridian City by the shortest path to pack up his things and go into hiding.

 

I turn around. "Elliot, you can shut that camera off now."

 

He gives me a look like he's pouting, but he does. "You mean you don't want to give a big happy speech to wrap everything up? Shocker."

 

"You know I don't like all that attention," I fume.

 

"Well, I'm sorry for saving the day. You know, you could just say, 'thank you, Elliot.'"

 

I take a deep breath. "Ok. Thank you, Elliot."

 

He blinks. "Woah, I didn't expect you to actually say it. Now say, 'You're the greatest trainer in the world, and I've always been jealous of your awesomeness!'"

 

I roll my eyes. "I just can't believe you actually did something smart for once."

 

"Well, actually, it was Dr. Clark's idea," he admits.

 

And all at once I realize. "You went to tell Dr. Clark that you're alive and didn't even give us so much as a phone call?"

 

He takes one look at me and backs away looking like he's just stepped on an Ursaring's big toe. "It's not my fault!"

 

"Do you even know how many times I tried to call you? And I didn't even hear it ringing! We thought you were dead!"

 

"It's not my fault," he repeats. "I, um, I kind of..." He mumbles the rest of the reply, but I pick up on it well enough.

 

"You dropped. Your cell phone. Into an active volcano?" I repeat.

 

"And then I got to Doctor Clark as soon as I could and we tried to call you, but we didn't know where you were! And it was only a couple days ago, and..."

 

"Just shut up! Elliot, do you have any idea how angry I am right now?"

 

"No?" he squeaks.

 

I march straight up to him, throw out my arms, and pull him into a hug. Through tears I say, "don't you ever do that to me again."

 

I don't let go even though I can feel him squirming to get away. "Mary Ann, help! She's gone crazy!"

 

Mary Ann just looks at the two of us and bursts out laughing.


	49. The Real Beginning

**Author's note: If you haven't read the prologue to this book or read it so long ago that you've forgotten, now might be a good time to check it out. Hint, hint. ;)**

Elliot laughs in response to something Mary Ann just signed.

Walking behind them with Chica at my side, I ask, “What did I just miss?”

I don’t mean to intrude if they’re having a private conversation, but, between thinking that Elliot was dead and everything Mary Ann and I went through with Agent Devlin, I haven’t been able to talk to either of my friends in several days. And my new and improved self is willing to admit that I care about that.

“Mary Ann just told me to spill the details of how I escaped Cinnabar Island before she dies of the suspense,” Elliot says.

Mary Ann shoots him a look.

He shrugs and admits, “Rough translation.”

She smiles at that.

“I would be interested in hearing that, too,” I say, and Chica pipes up her agreement from beside me.

“It’s really not all that impressive. Actually, it’s,” Elliot turns slightly red, “kind of embarrassing.”

“Ooh, perfect! Now I have to hear it!”

“Well, see, after you left, I was still pretty upset for a while. I felt really bad about letting you go all alone like that when you were so broken up about stuff, but I knew I had to stay and face the gym like I told you. I had the key and everything, but I just didn’t feel like going there right away. Maria and I just sat on the edge of the island for a little while first.”

I ignore the concerned look that Mary Ann is giving me and say, “Ok, but what’s the good part?”

Elliot sighs. “Well, I finally started heading to the gym, but I got halfway there and realized that I hadn’t healed my Pokémon since battling through Pokémon Mansion. So I turned around and did that and then went back and got all the way to the door that time before I realized that it would probably be a good idea to buy some potions and things. So I turned around again. And I guess I spent more time in the Poké Mart than I thought…”

“You were looking at all the cool stuff you can’t afford to buy, weren’t you?” I ask.

“Well, it could save us a lot of time if I could just boost my Pokémon’s power by feeding them a bunch of vitamins,” Elliot defends. “Anyway, I guess I spent more time in there than I thought, and I didn’t notice the cashier leave. I went up to the counter and there wasn’t anybody there, so I looked around, and then finally I wandered out the door. And that’s when Blaine’s Charizard grabbed the back of my t-shirt with his teeth and swooped me up into the air.

“’What are you doing, boy?’ Blaine was yelling at me. ‘Don’t you know the whole island is going to be covered?’”

“I bet you were screaming like a little kid.”

“Well, you try being snatched up into the air, hanging on by nothing but the shirt on your back while the ground gets smaller and smaller. I mean, partly it was awesome, but, yeah, it was terrifying! I yelled at Blaine to put me down, but he yelled back something about having no time for that. I still didn’t get what was going on until he flew us right over the top of the volcano and I saw all the lava bubbling up inside. It was amazing! I wish I could show you the picture, but—“

“But you dropped your cell phone into the volcano when you tried to take it,” I finish.

“Well, yeah.” He turns slightly red again. “Mary Ann just signed that it was an accident. She’s right. Oh, she also says she’s really glad I made it off the island safely. See? That’s the kind of thing that real friends say.”

I give him a joking shove.

“Mary Ann wants to know where I went from there. Ok, so I wanted to go find you, but Blaine was insistent on getting me back to land as soon as possible, and, well, it wasn’t exactly comfortable flying like that. Not exactly safe, either. So he dropped me off on the southern edge of Pallet Town and took off to take care of stuff I guess. I don’t know, he didn’t tell me what he was doing, but he seemed like he was in a hurry. It didn’t seem so bad because I was pretty sure you’d left in time to get away from it, and we said we were going to meet in Vermillion City anyway.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “So that’s when you went to Dr. Clark?”

“No way! I had time to kill, so I was checking out Pallet Town!”

“Right, fan boy’s greatest dream.” To Mary Ann, I say, “Pallet Town is where the character starts out in the original game and where the kid from the tv show is from, too. All the other towns are named after colors, so “pallet” is like, the thing that’s blank to start with and gathers all the colors together, I guess. It’s probably supposed to mean something, anyway.”

Elliot looks at me. “Woah! I never realized that before! That’s so cool! So anyway, I was checking out Pallet Town and seeing how it looks exactly like it does in Fire Red, and it turned out that Blaine was bringing everybody there. Everyone who was on Cinnabar Island started getting away on their Pokémon that could surf. Blaine flew around on his Charizard and gave everyone a lift so they could get there faster. So then, after he was done, he stuck around to make sure everyone was ok, and that’s when I got this.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little piece of metal painted red with three points on the top like flames. It’s the seventh badge.

“How were you able to defeat Blaine?” I ask.

“Well, Alma helped a lot, and he only had three Pokémon actually, even though they were pretty tough. It was a really great battle, but I want to hear about you guys first. What happened?”

Mary Ann goes from smiling to looking down at the ground. I step closer and put an arm around her as we walk, something that feels surprisingly good after days spent trying to comfort her while my hands were tied together. But instead of me, it’s Mary Ann who starts telling the story. I tell Elliot not to bother with translating because I already know what happened, so I walk in silence for a while, trading facial expressions with Chica.

Elliot is quiet, but I can see him growing more and more upset, just as Mary Ann is. We all stop walking when she starts crying.

“Here, let’s sit down,” I say, using the arm still around her to gently pull her down with me.

Elliot looks at her, looks at me, and fidgets awkwardly. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

Mary Ann looks up at him tearfully, and he crouches down and takes hold of her hand, saying, “I hope you don’t mind.”

She shakes her head as if she wouldn’t even dream of minding.

“We must be on the edge of Vermillion City by now,” I say. “We can stop here for the night. I think everyone can use the rest.”

Elliot looks at me. “Would you finish?”

I hesitate.

“I just think it would—“

I interrupt him. “Yeah, ok.”

“Really?”

I sigh. “It’s hard work, but I’m finally turning over a new leaf.”

***

I sit beside our campfire, staring into the flames. It’s gotten very dark, but none of us want to fall asleep yet. On my right, Mary Ann stares at the flames just as intently. Is she having some kind of psychic conversation with Goran, who I haven’t seen for a while now? Or is she thinking about everything that just happened to us? 

It seems unreal that Agent Devlin is just gone, poofed away like so many others we have met. If we find a way to undo all this, will she come back as well?

But we need to find a way to undo this. For all the things that have disappeared, for Maria, the Glaceon turned Vaporeon who suddenly seems uncomfortable in her own skin, for all the good people like Hilda and the little boy from Saffron City who will never get to live their lives if we don't reverse the changes, and for all the others who will follow them if we don't do this soon.

“Speaking of that new leaf,” I say, breaking the silence, “we need to know where we’re going.”

Elliot looks at me. “We’re going to Vermillion City. I’ll win the eighth gym badge, and… Oh. Giovanni was the eighth gym leader. He won’t be there, will he? We came all this way for nothing.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. We’re in the Gold and Silver Zone now. Giovanni was the eighth gym leader in the first generation of games, sure, but Gold and Silver take place after Team Rocket has been disbanded and Giovanni has fled. The gym in Viridian City is led by the original rival character.”

“Derrick?”

Mary Ann looks shocked. This is all new information to her.

“But that’s not what I was talking about, either. We can go to Viridian City, challenge Derrick to a gym battle, and maybe even get that final gym badge, but we don’t know where we’re going. All I have is a half-remembered song that means that Victory Road is connected to all of this somehow. We know it must be a powerful psychic behind all of this, but we don’t know who that is or what their motives are, much less how to make them stop it. And, according to Sabrina, everything we need has been inside my head all along. Let’s get it out, shall we?”

Mary Ann signs, with Elliot translating: “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. It’s tied to Derrick, I know it is. And…” I hesitate. “And my mother. The last time we tried this, I went back to the night I left, the night before I came to this world. Jodi turned on my Pokémon Blue game, and I heard that song. It reminded me of something, the last time I heard that song. I need to go back to that memory somehow. Mary Ann, can you do that?”

“I can if you will lead me.” Goran steps out of the woods just as she finishes signing.

I nod. “I know where we’re going. It has to be that day. The day when Derrick told me that my mother…”

I stop and clear my throat.

“Are you ok?”

“No, I have to do this. I can do this.” I take a deep breath. “The day when Derrick told me that my mother never loved me.”

The words hit like a sledge hammer, but that’s when I know that I’m not blocking it out anymore.

“Now!”

Goran swings his pendant, and I’m pushed into the memory almost immediately. I’m sitting on a carpeted floor, surrounded by what appears to be blue cloth. My eyes are focused down on the small screen of my Gameboy, where my Butterfree is delivering a Gust attack that makes the opposing Geodude’s health bar drop down to zero. The battle scene is replaced by the image of a cave.

I feel my fingers on the arrow buttons, pushing the character on screen forward, left, right, exploring every path. In my ears, I hear the song: Dun. Dun. Dun. Dun da dun. And a rattling like drums kicks in. This is Victory Road. I keep my focus on the screen tightly, waiting through the battles with wild Pokémon until the character wanders around once more. I pay attention to every path and rock formation, drawing a mental map for myself to follow. It should be child’s play; up is always north.

It’s not long before I hear myself start singing. There are no words to the song, not really. Just a lot of “la, la, lahs” and other wordless sounds. My younger self was probably paying attention to her made-up song because I don’t see even a twitch when the character on screen wanders right through a wall.

My thumb is still on the up arrow, moving the character further north, but she doesn’t travel more than a few steps before I see something that makes me stop. Way up at the top of the screen, there’s a bright yellow glow. Colored graphics in a colorless game. What is that?

I hear Mary Ann’s voice in my head asking me the same question: “What do you see?”

But before I can get a proper look, my head jerks up and my mouth lets out a gasp.

What’s going on? What…? As I dash out from underneath the tablecloth, frantically pushing buttons to open up the save menu, I remember. I always hid underneath that table to get away from Derrick, but I only did it for a short time because one day he had found me. This memory I’m in now must be after that, which means Derrick knows where I am, and now I hear his voice asking for me. He’s coming.

“You can come out of the memory now,” Mary Ann’s voice says. “Did you hear me? You’re getting overexcited.”

But I’ve lost all track of that nineteen year old traveler. I am eight years old again, and I am running for my life. Derrick is coming, and it’s going to be bad. I can feel it. It’s going to be very bad. I need to get away, need to run.

The game finishes saving, and I yank out the cartridge, stuffing it into a pocket in my backpack without even slowing down. I’m trying to protect the game? What am I doing? I should be running to protect myself.

“You’re shaking! Come out! Wake up!” Mary Ann’s voice is shouting now.

But everything is drowned out by the sight of the figure who’s just come out from behind the corner ahead. Nine year old Derrick stands with his arms folded across his chest, looking down at me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he sneers.


	50. The Final City

"Stay away from me!" I hear my young voice shriek.

 

"Or what?" Derrick retorts, advancing with all the strength of intimidation he can muster out of his nine-year-old body. Just one year of difference, but he seems so tall and so much stronger.

 

"Or I'll tell my mom when she comes to get me," I threaten, lip trembling as I back up step for step.

 

Derrick stops walking. I take another step back before I realize something's wrong. I freeze as the fresh gasp of fear floods through me.

 

"You are such an idiot," he says. "Your mother isn't coming back for you."

 

"Yes, she is! They took me away from her, but she wants me back and she's going to come get me just as soon as she can make them let her!"

 

A cruel smile flits across his face. "You think that you're like Bailey?"

 

"His mom came back!"

 

"Yeah, fresh out of rehab. She told them that she's clean now, but I've seen it before. He'll be back here in less than a few months."

 

What?

 

"But you and I aren't like Bailey," he continues. "We aren't here cause they took us away from our parents. We're here because our parents dumped us."

 

"No," I say, "you're lying."

 

"There's nothing for your mom to clean up cause she's already clean. She's good and clean and she just doesn't want you."

 

I feel the tears start up, and I shriek out through them, "No! You're lying! My mommy loves me!"

 

Derrick looks at me and shakes his head. "Wake up, kid. Your mother never loved you."

 

Far off in my head, there's a sound like a voice shouting, but that can't be right. No one else is here.

 

I'm down on the floor, sobbing into the carpet like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum. It hurts inside. It hurts in my heart like a part of me is breaking.

 

But a part of me's already broken there. That part of me looks up and sees Derrick's face staring down at me, and it understands his expression.

 

"You're feeling your pain through me," that part accuses.

 

Derrick leaps back in shock.

 

The thought comes up dimly from the same place as the screaming: This isn't right. This isn't how it happened.

 

And suddenly, just as I was absorbed into my younger self, my younger self is absorbed into me. I am here, and I am the one in control.

 

"You want to hurt everyone just the way that you were hurt," I say, standing up and wiping the tears from my cheeks with a hand that's still quite small. "You think there's nothing in the world but pain, the pain that you feel. But you're wrong. Your dad ditched you, but there are other people in the world who care about you. Some people who could even love you. You don't have to be tough to be ok. It will hurt very much, but you can open up. Throw down all your defenses and let someone in. They might hurt you again, if you open up they definitely could, but they could also make you happy again. You can't feel love if you're shutting out your heart. And it's there for you."

 

Now Derrick is backing up from me. "What are you...? Who?"

 

"You don't have your dad and I don't have my mom, but the two of us are here together. If you stop tormenting me, I could be your friend. We could stay here and make a new family and I could be like your little sister. You don't have to do this. You don't have to be alone."

 

A strong smell assaults my nose. I turn, spin, duck my head, trying to suck in fresh air. I gag and cough and my eyes, my real eyes, flutter open. I shove Chica and her foul-smelling leaf away from me, but already the scent is changing to one like freesia. She's relieved.

 

Elliot peppers me with questions, Chica shoves back in and snuggles into me, Mary Ann tries to apologize over and over again.

 

"I'm ok," I tell them over and over again until it finally sinks it. As soon as everyone is relaxed and settled in their spots around the fire once again, I speak. "I know I must have worried you all when I didn't come out of the hypnosis, but I think I really worked through something. And I know exactly where we need to go. This glowing that I saw. I think it was the psychic. And first thing tomorrow I want to get that final badge so I can go to Victory Road and deliver a very well-earned slap."

***

"So how do you think I'm going to be able to challenge Derrick to a gym battle if he doesn't have any of his Pokémon?" Elliot asks as we pack up camp the next morning.

 

I look at him. "I think he does have his Pokémon. Are you forgetting that when I let Alakazam out of her pokéball after the battle to try to heal her with those berries we found she woke up and teleported away? With the rest of the pokéballs?"

 

"Well, yeah, of course I do," Elliot replies, rolling up his sleeping bag clumsily. "But you really don't think they went back to Derrick, do you?"

 

"Alakazam would have. She could have left Derrick at any time. Even way back when we first saw her as an Abra. Sabrina said something about how she knows her place in this, remember? And maybe this is it. Maybe she needs to be the Alakazam in the final gym battle before we go to Victory Road, solve this mystery, and make the psychic behind it turn everything back to normal."

 

"And then she and the other Pokémon can go free?" Elliot asks hopefully.

 

"If that's not part of the psychic's plan for fixing things, I'm going to make it part of his plan. And I'm going to make him turn that poor Typhlosion back into a Cyndaquil, too. And turn Maria back into a Glaceon like she's supposed to be. Oh, I have a whole list of things I'm going to make him do once I'm through with him."

 

"Why are you assuming it's a him?" Elliot asks, translating for Mary Ann.

 

"I'm not. English is just a stupid language that makes it more convenient to say 'he'."

 

Elliot tosses me the sleeping bag, and I shove it into my messenger bag to zap it into energy storage. That's the last of it.

 

"Any chance you have some food?" Elliot asks. "I'm starving."

 

I frown. "Not enough of it. Ever since the changes in the world have started ramping up, I haven't been able to find a place that sells food anywhere. Unless you count lemonade and soda and berries. I have plenty of those. But I'm saving all the real food I have left for when we really need it."

 

"No more food?" Elliot asks. "Ok, now I'm going start making a list of things for this psychic, too."

 

"Food at the top?" I joke.

 

Mary Ann smiles.

 

But he surprises me by responding seriously. "No, that little kid from Saffron City."

 

Mary Ann signs, "What?"

 

"Oh, I forgot that you weren't there," he says, signing as he speaks now. "We met a little boy in Saffron City right before the wave of changes hit. We tried to get him to safety, but he disappeared right in front of us. He really reminded me of Kyle."

 

I can see from Mary Ann's face that she understands immediately. She signs something, and he signs back without translating, effectively cutting me out of the conversation.

 

Who is Kyle, and why does Mary Ann know exactly who he is when I don't? I strain my memory, trying to see why it sounds a bit familiar. It's not until we're standing inside the Viridian City Pokémon Center watching the recharging machine light up underneath my pokéballs that I remember what Elliot said. He told the kid from Saffron that he was the same age as his brother.

 

But Elliot never talks about his family. At least, not to me. I realize suddenly that he hasn't mentioned his family or much of anything about his life back in the real world to me since I told him that it bothers me when he goes on and on about his perfect family and perfect friends and perfect everything. "Told" or, you know, maybe exploded on him. I wince.

 

Does he talk about things like that with Mary Ann? I don't know what's going on between them at all, do I? What are they saying when they sign back and forth all the time we walk along?

 

My secret knowledge about Mary Ann runs back through my thoughts. She never actually told me, but from the way she asked how I feel about Elliot, it was clear as day. She likes him. That's the term, right? We never got the chance to talk about it, really, but that's just as well. I wouldn't know what to say.

 

As Nurse Joy hands me back my pokéballs and expresses her wish that she'll see me again, I glance back at the two of them still signing away near the door while they wait for me. It just feels weird to think of Mary Ann that way, as a person who has those kinds of feelings for someone. 

 

I've never understood that. Sure, I've seen plenty of couples, but they've always been remote, strangers to me made more strange by the fact of this feeling that I've always found to be absolutely baffling. Why would you want to put your lips on top of someone else's? Or, even worse, some people touch together with their tongues? I shudder.

 

People always told me it would make sense to me someday — "when you're older," they said — but it never happened. That's just me. I don't even know how to tell if Elliot likes her back. I never was one for romance movies or girly magazines or... I don't even know where I was supposed to learn about this stuff. Sure, I know the basics, but it never occurred to me to look for any of those signs in Elliot. 

 

I bite back a sigh. Whatever happens, this is going to get really awkward for me, isn't it?

 

"Come on, guys, let's go see if we can find Derrick," I say, relieved that I can suggest an important task that I actually do understand and is totally non-awkward. Relieved by the thought of meeting up with Derrick. What is happening to my life?


	51. Split

The door slides open silently on our approach. Inside, an empty gym building. The registration sheet flutters, threatening to slip off the post-like statue that it's shakily pinned to. The walls are green and blocky, the floor is blue, and there is not a soul in sight.

 

"Hello?" Elliot calls out, taking a step forward.

 

I follow close behind while Mary Ann pulls out her pencil and begins neatly filling in an entry on the sheet.

 

"Do you sense someone?" I ask, but her eyes are trained on the paper.

 

I turn. Elliot is still walking slowly and uncertainly, peering behind every wall. At the far wall, he stops dead. "Derrick?"

 

I rush forward, turning to the right, just the direction that Elliot is facing. There, hidden by two walls that form a corner and another that juts out just far enough to obscure him halfway on a third side, Derrick is rocking back and forth with his knees hugged up to his chest.

 

"It's coming," he mutters. "It's coming."

 

Elliot sucks in a breath. "Great. It's Gollum again."

 

"He was like this at Pokémon Tower?" I ask, remembering the conversation in which he first made his reference to the Lord of the Rings character.

 

"Not this bad."

 

I take a step forward. "Derrick?"

 

His eyes, glazed over and staring off into a place beyond the wall, suddenly snap up straight to mine. "You."

 

"And me. I'm here, too!" Elliot waves as if he's trying to be helpful.

 

"You're here to challenge me." He straightens his legs and pats at his waist as if searching for the pokéballs that are located in the same pouch as always.

 

"Actually, Elliot's here to do that," I say, taking his arm and pulling him in front of me.

 

"No, I must battle with the rival," he mutters. He braces himself against the wall with one hand as he climbs to his feet.

 

"Look, Derrick, I don't know what to tell you, but I don't have any gym badges. Elliot has seven. He's here to get the eighth. His name is on the sheet."

 

Derrick's expression changes. "Yes, I must face the challenger." His voice stops, falters. "No, no, I want to defeat her! She's the rival! No, he is!"

 

I step closer to Elliot and ask in a low voice, "Is he having an argument? With himself?"

 

"I don't know about this," Elliot says uneasily.

 

Two halves of his personality: one half the Derrick created from my memories, the other half the person those memories were grafted onto. More of the psychic's handiwork.

 

"Looked at her first," growls the Derrick half.

 

"But the registration," argues the other.

 

"Yes, we'll battle him, but she was here first. We locked eyes. Custom dictates."

 

Derrick sighs regretfully, and then his expression clears. He's coming out of it.

 

"We both saw you at the same time," I lie.

 

A wave passes over his features.

 

"You were zoned out. You didn't notice, but we both leaned down to see if you were ok. He caught your right eye, and I caught your left."

 

Derrick sinks back against the wall with a moan, pushing both fists into his forehead. "It's coming. It's coming fast now. I must... must..."

 

"Your Typhlosion is the opposite to my Chikorita," I say. "You are the holder of all eight gym badges, the second leader of the Viridian City gym. You were created to be the rival character. You've said so yourself. You aren't the Derrick that I knew. You're a creation pieced together from my memories and the shell of the man you were supposed to be — Blue, the grandson of Professor Oak, the former champion of the Indigo League and leader of this gym."

 

I look straight into Derrick's eyes, hoping to break through to the personality hidden underneath. "Blue, you are no longer in control of your own fate, no longer in control of yourself because Derrick's personality has been forced onto you. And Derrick, you had no more choice in this than he did."

 

Derrick's eyes still dart about from side to side. His breathing is hard, but I know that he is listening to me from his silence and motionlessness.

 

I continue. "I know where to find the psychic that did this to you. All I need is the final gym badge. You have a score to settle with him, too. Give me the gym badge, and we can face him together."

 

"I remember..." Derrick says quietly.

 

Elliot and I both catch our breaths, waiting for him to finish, but he seems to have lost his train of thought.

 

"What do you—?"

 

"I remember you told me that you could be my friend. You said that... you said that I don't have to be alone."

 

My heart pounds faster. I said that in a memory that never happened. I changed what happened, but it was only in my head. How deeply is this construct of Derrick tied to me? I say, "Yes, I said that when we were kids together, and I still mean it now. The psychic made me the hero and you the rival, but we're both more than that. We don't have to play the roles we've been assigned. I've been fighting mine every step of the way. If we team together now, we can win our freedom."

 

Derrick hesitates. I see a look flash across his face, but then he clutches his hands to his head again. "No! You must battle me. You are the hero."

 

I close my eyes and sigh. "No, Derrick, that's where you're wrong. I have a Chikorita to match with your Typhlosion. I'm dressed in an outfit ripped straight off the video game cover art, and all of this seems to have started with me. But I haven't played the role of hero very well. I don't have a single gym badge. You want to know who has all the gym badges? He does."

 

"What, me?" Elliot asks, as if he'd completely forgotten that he was supposed to be a part of this conversation.

 

"Just like Derrick and Blue both make up the rival, the hero comes in two parts, also. Elliot and I are both the hero."

 

Derrick replies with just two words: "Double battle."

***

"I want half of our half to be water and the other half to be dirt-covered," Elliot instructs.

 

Derrick looks back somewhat blankly, but he walks up to a control panel on the wall, and his fingers press the right buttons seemingly of their own accord. A panel on our side of the field slides back partway to reveal a pool underneath, and a hard top covering on that panel slides back still further to reveal a thick layer of earth. Elliot is playing to the strengths of his Pokémon, clearly, although it is true that I wouldn't be able to use Unicorn in this battle if there wasn't any water here. Elliot has clearly learned a thing or two about how to carry out these gym battles.

 

Mary Ann stands at the midway point between Derrick's side and ours, acting as the referee. Unlike every other gym we've faced, Derrick has no one. No employees to serve as referees, no apprentices, not even any trainers hanging around to pick off the fresh meat of challengers unprepared to face the full strength of a gym leader. This place is a ghost town, and Derrick is walking around it like a man in a dream.

 

He pulls out a pokéball mechanically and stands at the ready. Mary Ann holds up three fingers, two, one!

 

Predictable on our end. I release Chica and all the promise of her new super-powered attack. Elliot releases Maria into the pool he had ordered just for her. She dives in headfirst, slapping the surface of the water with her mermaid-like tail.

 

No longer the icy Glaceon, the ongoing changes to the world have turned Maria into the first generation Pokémon Vaporeon. Also an evolved form of Eevee, this Pokémon is a water type, with sleek aqua blue skin, webbed paws, and decorative fins extending from either side of her head.

 

Derrick starts out with Rhydon. Which is really rather stupid. Seeing the familiar rhinoceros-like hulk of the rock and ground type Pokémon on Derrick's side of the field seems odd after my battle against Giovanni. I will be trying to defeat the very Pokémon that helped me win.

 

The second on his side of the field is the bird Pokémon Pidgeot.

 

"Pick your first moves well," I mutter to Elliot. "We might be restricted to using only four now."

 

He groans. "The Gold and Silver zone is terrible!"

 

"Well, on the bright side, I think the new rules are what gave Chica the ability to use... Solar Beam!" I shout out the last as my instruction to Chica.

 

She nods and extends her leaf wide, absorbing sunlight to power the attack.

 

"Rock Slide and Mirror Move," Derrick orders emotionlessly. He's swaying slightly from side to side as he stands in his position, lips moving as if still muttering to himself between orders to his Pokémon.

 

"Sand Attack, aim for its eyes!" Elliot says quickly.

 

The Vaporeon leaps out of the water and onto the dirt-covered portion of the field where Chica is still absorbing energy. Rhydon rushes forward, and she gives a mighty kick that sprays earth into both his eyes. He closes them in pain, shaking his head back and forth with a roar as the rocks he intended to drop onto Chica go soaring above her head. They crash uselessly against the wall.

 

And then everyone else is closing their eyes as well, this time against the blinding light of Chica's Solar Beam Attack. When we open them, Rhydon is looking far worse for the wear. It's a testament to the extreme difference in levels between the Pokémon that he's still standing at all. As it is, the grass type super attack has left his body covered in what look like extreme sunburns. He pants heavily. One water attack from Maria could probably finish him off.

 

But we still have the Pidgeot to worry about. Mirror Move does nothing since neither of our Pokémon attacked him this turn, but no matter what state of mind Derrick is in right now I don't think he's going to make a mistake that stupid twice in a row.

 

"Reflect," I order, making Chica raise a glimmering pinkish shield around herself and Maria.

 

"Um, can you do Aurora Beam?" Elliot asks hopefully.

 

"On who?" I mutter, jabbing him with my elbow.

 

"Pidgeot, on Pidgeot."

 

"Earthquake and Wing Attack the Chikorita," Derrick orders.

 

Oh, so that's the other move that Rhydon knows. Now I understand why Rhydon and Pidgeot make a good combination. The entire field is shaking violently under the force of Earthquake, but Pidgeot soars high up in the air above it all, unaffected and free to slam against Chica's pinkish shield at full force.

 

In return, Maria hits at close range with a swirling column of expelled ice that coats his beak and head and spreads all the way out to his wings. He crashes to the ground, unable to fly until the ice cracks and clears, but the damage is already done. Even with her shield, Chica can't withstand the impact of a flying type attack from a Pokémon at least thirty levels higher than her. No damage shows on her body, but, as her shield collapses, she slumps to the ground with a soft cry. I rush to get her back inside her pokéball before the earthquake attack adds to her pain any more.

 

Maria is hit with the shaking and splitting of the earth beneath her feet with full force, but Chica's Reflect absorbs much of the impact. When the shaking finally subsides, the Vaporeon is panting slightly but still standing.

 

Time for me to send out my next Pokémon. I smile, just realizing which other Pokémon I can use now that half of the battle field is a pool of water.

 

"Lapras!" Mystique cries as her blue fins touch down into the water.

 

She finishes the Rhydon with a single Water Gun attack while Maria hits Pidgeot with a second Aurora Beam. This time, he successfully mirrors the move right back to her, creating a stream of ice identical to the one that he was just hit with. Ice doesn't work well against water types, but it is an attack more powerful than any that he could normally make use of, and it passes right through the shield surrounding the Vaporeon.

 

Derrick calls out Exeggutor. Maria's next Aurora Beam finishes Pidgeot, but Exeggutor's Egg Bomb finishes her. Grass has the advantage over water, so I have Mystique hit it with a Confuse Ray in the hopes of making some of its attacks go wild.

 

Elliot replaces Maria with Kyu, a flying type to oppose grass, and Derrick calls out Alakazam. The psychic type looks straight into my eyes as if she's trying to tell me something, but my brain is running through strategy, thinking that I have to save Unicorn for Derrick's Typhlosion. Though I don't often get the chance to use him, he's actually my highest level Pokémon. Even he isn't going to last if that Exeggutor has even one grass type move, though. And since we're doing a double battle two on one, Elliot and I will only be allowed three Pokémon each. I hope that Kyu is strong enough to get rid of that thing.

 

"Slash Exeggutor," Elliot calls out.

 

"Growl at it, Mystique," I add, deciding to exchange my chance at damage for increased defense.

 

"Exeggutor, use Sunny..." Derrick gasps, doubling over as if in pain.

 

Exeggutor stands blankly, waiting for the end of the instruction. Maria and Mystique pause as well, turning to us and back to Derrick to indicate their concern. Alakazam simply nods once and closes her eyes. In the next second, she's gone, teleported away, but the surprising thing is that I no longer see Exeggutor.

 

Derrick straightens up and looks to the field. "What the?"

 

His hands fumble to his pouch and rummage around, coming out with nothing but empty air. He leans forward with another gasp of pain, and, with one hand, finally reaches into a smaller pocket.

 

"I have no Pokémon remaining. The Earth Badge is yours." He holds up the little green pin.

 

"What?"

 

"Elliot and the challenger are the winners?" Mary Ann signs the words like a question, but I decide that the referee has spoken.

 

I march across the battle field and take the pin. Elliot follows behind, so I turn and give it to him.

 

"Well, now that that's done," I say to Derrick, "you're still welcome to come with us. I would offer a hospital instead, but, um, there aren't any. And we both know that the psychic is the real cause of this. He's the only one who can help you now."

 

Derrick shakes his head. "You don't understand."

 

"Well, maybe you can explain it on our way to Victory Road," I press stubbornly. I don't like Derrick, but I hate to see anyone in this kind of pain.

 

He shakes his head again. "I'll already be there."

 

"You mean at the beginning, where there's that rival battle you can do early or do you mean at the end, all the way at the Indigo Plateau? But aren't both of those first and third generation game location?" Elliot asks. "I thought that we were in the second."

 

"It's coming, and I can't still be here," Derrick says. "Alazakam, come back! Come back!"

 

"Wait, when he says 'it's coming'," Elliot says, "does he mean...?"

Everything happens in a flash. Alakazam appears and disappears in the blink of an eye, Derrick is replaced by the figure of a man in a business suit, and the entire world turns black and white.


	52. Flashes

In the instant that Derrick disappears and the world turns black and white, Elliot jumps back as though he's seen a ghost. Before us stands a man in a dark black suit wearing something that appears to be a badge on his chest.

 

Though he looks quite different from the man we met, with a longer face and more of a balding look, still I stand my ground and ask, "Giovanni?"

 

"The Earth Badge makes Pokémon of any level obey! It is evidence of your mastery as a Pokémon trainer! With it, you can enter the Pokémon League! It is my gift for your Pokémon League challenge!" he replies.

 

"O... kay?"

 

He thrusts something like a cd into my hands.

 

"TM27 is Fissure! It will take out Pokémon with just one hit! I made it when I ran the Gym here, too long ago..."

 

"Ok, are you just going to keep saying exactly what you say in the—"

 

I hush Elliot before he can finish. Giovanni is the last man who should hear the word "video games", even if he seems to have turned into a perfect robot from them.

 

"Having lost, I cannot face my underlings! Team Rocket is finished forever! I will dedicate my life to the study of Pokémon! Let us meet again someday! Farewell!"

 

The lights flash off, and, when they come back on, Giovanni has completely vanished.

 

"Oh, so he's a ninja now, too?" I joke.

 

Elliot gives me a strange look. "Do you think this is funny?"

 

That stops me for a second. "It's just that all of this is so ridiculous it doesn't seem like it's actually real. Like watching a really bad old horror film and laughing instead of being scared. Haven't you ever done that?"

 

"But this is real."

 

Mary Ann walks up and signs, "you two know what's going on?"

 

"Yes. I know these video games backwards and forwards," I assure her. "Nothing will surprise me from now on."

 

At the Pokémon Center, I find out that I was wrong about that.

 

A Nurse Joy with grayish hair and a black dress places five black and white pokéballs onto a dark black surface that makes them flash with white light in time to the flashing of the computer monitor directly behind.

 

"Thank you!" she says. "Your Pokémon are fighting fit!" She bows. "We hope to see you again!"

 

As soon as I step back from the counter and touch a hand to my pokéball belt, something like a menu screen flashes in front of my eyes. I jerk my hand back in surprise, and it disappears. Slowly, I touch my hand to the second pokéball in my belt.

 

In the upper left corner of my vision, I see a translucent picture of a Seaking pointed on a downward slant with ridiculously large and puffy lips. The upper right reads, "Unicorn / :L 34." "L" is obviously short for level. It gives all his stats as numbers and lists out all kinds of other information, just like the video game menu.

 

Ok, that's weird. I shake it off and reach for the pokéball I was actually going for: Chica's. But what greets me as soon as my fingers touch the surface is a picture of...

 

"A Bulbasaur?" I shriek. "This thing turned Chica into a Bulbasaur? I am going to kill that psychic!"

 

"Um, please don't kill anyone," Elliot says in a small voice. He takes a step back towards the counter where his Pokémon are in the process of being healed, looking legitimately frightened.

 

Mary Ann doesn't move an inch from my side, but her brow wrinkles slightly. "What's a Bulbasaur?"

 

In a fit of anger, I throw the pokéball. It pops open over one of the weird, gray, diamond-shaped tiles to reveal a short, four-legged grayish creature with a wide mouth and a large plant bulb growing on its back.

 

She manages to choke out an, "Ah?"

 

The pokéball sails over her head, crashing into the opposite wall. It was aimed perfectly for the leaf above her head except for the fact that it's no longer there.

 

Chica looks down at her stubby little legs and jumps two feet into the air with an involuntary cry of, "Bulba!"

 

I brush my hand over my belt, checking on everybody else. I mostly have first generation Pokémon: Seaking, Jolteon, Lapras. My hand pauses on Serendipity's pokéball. The picture shows she's turned back into a Chansey. Well, that's not so bad, but something else down in the corner of the menu catches my eye. 

 

"OT" stands for original trainer, and it's supposed to show the name of the person who first caught the Pokémon. On Unicorn's entry, as well as Chica's and all the others, the space has listed nothing but a series of question marks. Apparently the world doesn't know what my name is either. That's fine, but, in Serendipity's entry, I see the word "Joy" followed by a series of numbers. Did Serendipity once belong to a Nurse Joy?

 

But there's no time to think about that now. Chica is turning circles on the floor, chanting, "Bulba, bulba, bulbasaur?" Turning and turning with her neck craned all the way to the side as though she's trying to catch a glimpse of the new body that comes too short and with a neck too stumpy to ever allow her to do so.

 

"Chica, hold still." I pick her up awkwardly around the middle and heft her over to the PC monitor at the far end of the center. Holding her up at just the right angle, she can see her reflection in the blackened screen.

 

"Bul-baah!" she wails.

 

"You do not look ugly!" I argue, taking a quick guess at her meaning. "And I swear, we will get you back to normal."

 

"How did you find out that Chica was... Oh!" Elliot's eyes widen as his fingers brush across his own belt. "This is so cool! I can see exactly what level everybody is! Maria is level 38, Kyu is level 37, Alma is 40, and Harry is level 21."

 

"Wait, did you say level 21?" I ask, turning and setting Chica on the floor.

 

"Yeah. Why?"

 

"Um, you know that Magikarp are supposed to evolve at level 20, right?"

***

Once all the excitement dies down, we finally set off for Victory Road with a Hypno, a Vaporeon, and a Bulbasaur by our sides. We walk west along a white path speckled with gray, turn onto a gray area of shortened grass that feels like Astroturf underfoot, and finally step into an area of tall grass.

 

At the first step, my vision starts to flash, and I worry that I'm about to faint before the flash turns into a swirl and I hear the words, "Wild Spearow has appeared!" inside my head.

 

"Ok, does anyone else think this is really annoying?" I ask no one in particular as the bird Pokémon Spearow does indeed pop out of the grass.

 

It's level 3, big whoop. I tell Chica to give it a Tackle and be done. As I do so, I see yet another menu flash at the bottom of my eyes, as if it had barely gotten a chance to load before I had selected my option.

 

"Chica used Tackle!" I hear in my head, followed by, "Enemy Spearow fainted!"

 

"Are we going to have to go through this for every single battle?" I ask, even though I can tell already that the answer is absolutely yes.

 

We walk along another path, through another patch of tall grass, "run" from a Rattata (we "got away safely", no surprise there), make some ridiculous roundabout curves around a fence and a ledge, and finally enter a large building.

 

Inside is a large stretch of carpet extending from where we stand to the door opposite. If this game had color, I'm willing to bet the carpet would be red. If this game had better graphics, it would probably also be kind of fancy.

 

A man in a black uniform and a hat stands at the far side of the room, guarding the door. Mary Ann and I pause, while Elliot walks forward. He takes two steps ahead and stops suddenly to rummage around inside his pocket.

 

"Don't you dare tell me you lost that first gym badge," I say. "I am not going back to Pewter City so you can win another one."

 

He rummages some more. "Relax, relax. I've got it in here somewhere. Aha!"

 

The guard's eyes light up as though the sight of a little bit of polished metal is his chief delight. "Oh! That is the BOULDERBADGE!"

 

I could swear I hear him say that word in all caps. Don't ask me how.

 

"Go right ahead!" The guard gestures him to go through.

 

He begins to move, and Mary Ann and I step up to follow.

 

"You can pass here only if you have the BOULDERBADGE!" he roars at us.

 

Elliot takes a step back. "No, it's cool, they're with me."

 

"You don't have the BOULDERBADGE yet!" the guard continues as if he hasn't heard a word. "You have to have it to get to POKéMON LEAGUE!"

 

"I can just feel him overusing those exclamation marks," I mutter.

 

Elliot stands by looking confused.

 

I turn to the guard. "Hey, you, can you hear a word I say?"

 

He makes no reply. His face does not change.

 

"Your uniform makes you look like a member of Team Rocket," I try.

 

Still nothing.

 

"You're a robot under the control of a powerful psychic who's trying to destroy the world."

 

Nothing.

 

"Let us through and I'll give you a cookie?"

 

Nothing.

 

"Yeah, this guy's stiffer than a guard at Buckingham Palace. He's not going to notice a thing. Toss me that BOULDERBADGE," I mock.

 

"What?" Elliot asks.

 

I hold up my hand. "Toss it."

 

He throws me the badge, and I step forward, presenting it to the guard.

 

His eyes light up. ""Oh! That is the BOULDERBADGE!"

 

I roll my eyes. "No, duh."

 

I step on through and toss the badge to Mary Ann.

 

Turns out we have to do this every single time as well.

 

Finally, we make our way to the cave.

 

"Elliot, push that boulder onto that switch there," I instruct.

 

"Why me?" he asks.

 

"Because you've done this in the game, you understand what I mean, and, if it makes you feel better, I'll get the next one."

 

Really, my reason is that this will probably take him a while, and a little while ago Mary Ann asked surreptitiously if she could talk to me alone.

 

"What's up?" I ask her as soon as Elliot's gone off on his grumbling way.

 

She takes out her pad of paper and begins writing on it as Elliot walks past, shooting me a scowl as he pushes a spherical boulder that comes up to his chest.

 

"This might be awkward, but... I know you said that you don't have feelings for Elliot, but are you sure he doesn't have any feelings for you?"

 

"What?" I yelp.

 

Elliot stops pushing the boulder and turns his head. "Huh?"

 

"Nothing, nothing." I wave my hand at him in a manner that seems awkward even to me. I turn back to Mary Ann and employ my old trick of moving my lips without bringing forth any sound. "Why are you asking me that?"

 

She frowns and writes again, feverishly. Some of her perfect loops even come out a little wobbly from the speed. "I... I told you that I like him, but I don't know if he feels the same way about me. He's nice to me, but he's also nice to you, and sometimes it seems like he gets along with you better. But maybe that's because he's known you longer? Or maybe he's trying harder because of all the stuff you've been going through? Or maybe he's one of those guys who gets a little shy and awkward around the girls they like? Or maybe it's all inside my head. Or... I just don't know!"

 

I can feel my heart beating faster, full of anxiety. "I don't know either!" I mouth to her, thinking: shoot, how did I get myself into this conversation? And, more importantly, how do I get myself out?

 

"I don't know any of this stuff. I can't tell! I don't know whether Elliot likes you or whether he likes me or whether he likes the cute girl with the Nidorina that we met in Pewter City."

 

Mary Ann's face falls. She writes, "there was a cute girl with a Nidorina?"

 

"Um, no? Anyway, I really hope he doesn't like me," I rush ahead. "I've never really thought about it to be honest. But that would be super awkward!" I squirm on the rock I'm sitting on just thinking about it. I make a face, sticking out my tongue partway. Blech.

 

"So he's never said anything?" she asks.

 

"No."

 

"Have you ever told him you're asexual and aromantic?"

 

"No."

 

There's a loud click as the boulder finds its resting place on the switch.

 

"Phew! That was hard work," Elliot says. He walks over. "So, what are you two talking about?"

 

"Nothing," I say too quickly.

 

Elliot's raises his eyebrows, but I make a show of standing up and pushing forward. "Come on, lots more boulders to get to, lots more cave to walk through. Let's get started!"

 

But I saw the last thing Mary Ann wrote on her notepad before he came. I said, "No", indicating that I haven't ever told him, and she wrote back with just two words: "Will you?"


	53. The Secret of Victory Road

It's not that I would mind Elliot knowing, it's the telling him part that really doesn't appeal to me. How would that conversation even go? Hey, Elliot, just fyi, I don't have any feelings for you. You know, just in case you thought I might. Why would I think that? Why am I telling you this now? Um, no reason. It certainly wasn't somebody else who gave me that idea. No.

 

I grimace. There are way too many ways that conversation could go wrong. Why can't he just know? Shouldn't he know? I mean, how long have we been travelling together now? And, after that time when Doctor Clark called me his girlfriend by mistake, I thought I made my feelings pretty clear.

 

But, then again, this is Elliot. It actually wouldn't surprise me if he missed that completely. Actually, it would be equally unsurprising if he was too thick-headed to notice Mary Ann's feelings towards him, either. I really doubt she's as blunt and straight-forward with him as I am, and that's probably about what it would take to get the message through.

 

I sigh. Why is this my job?

 

I take the last bite of my last sandwich. Alright, fine, I'll do it. Someone has to talk to him.

 

I turn another corner in the cave and glance back. Elliot and Mary Ann are still signing back and forth as we walk. I'll have to wait for a good time.

 

I take another step, and all of a sudden I hear the familiar music inside my head, the theme song of Victory Road. With all the weirdness going on, I honestly can't tell if this is the natural extension of the video game takeover or whether the surroundings have simply called it into my head. Either way, I know what it means: we're close. I recognize these rocks, this path I'm on.

 

"Over here," I say to Elliot and Mary Ann. "This is the spot."

 

I walk up to the cave wall, feeling my compass sense tingle like it never has before as it leads me to the exact section of wall.

 

"It looks like a wall," Elliot says intelligently.

 

I lift up my hand and pass it directly through, feeling nothing but air and colored light. Standing next to me, Elliot's hand zooms forward and connects with solid rock.

 

"Ow!" he complains.

 

Mary Ann laughs. "You have to stand where she's standing. Here, can I try?"

 

I step back with a nod. "Go ahead."

 

She passes a hand through slowly, eyes marveling. "It has a psychic feel to it," she reports. "I think it won't let just anyone through."

 

"Does it not like me?" Elliot asks, still rubbing his injured hand.

 

"It better like you," I say. "You're with me. You two go in first, and I'll follow."

 

Mary Ann steps through gracefully. Elliot's face grows anxious as she passes out of sight. He puts both hands up cautiously to feel that the wall really isn't there before stepping through rapidly. Goran and Maria follow, but Chica turns her Bulbasaur head up to me.

 

I nod to her. "Together."

 

I thought that stepping through would feel like something - parting a curtain or passing through a section of heavy air that ripples like water - but it's just like stepping through a normal doorway. Everything on the other side becomes clear immediately, and I see Elliot and Mary Ann standing side by side with their Pokémon to the left and right. They turn around.

 

"Um, you're going to want to see this," Elliot says. He takes a step to the left, Mary Ann takes one to the right, and I can see, for the first time, what lies in the chamber beyond.

 

There's a yellow glow. The first color I've seen since the red and blue zone came down, and it immediately sparks my memory. I feel drawn to it now even more powerfully than I did as a child, but, as a child, the figure within the glow was not one that I recognized. Now I do.

 

"That's impossible," I whisper.

 

It's tiny, not more than a foot long spread out on its back. Its eyes are closed, and its mouth is open in a tiny little circle. The black curve mark on its stomach rises and falls with each slow breath. Except for this and the pale blue dots beneath its eyes, the main part of its body is completely white: face, feet, torso, arms, and hands. As it slumbers, it floats an inch or two off the surface of the ground, bobbing slowly as if on the surface of an invisible wave. Long yellow extensions like sections of cloth extend from behind its back, rippling with every motion of that wave. And on its head, it appears to be wearing an extravagant headdress in the form of a three-pointed yellow star.

 

I was expecting the psychic to be a person. This is a psychic, and a powerful one, but it is a psychic Pokémon. A legendary psychic Pokémon. This is Jirachi.

 

"This is where it all started?" I ask in disbelief. "Jirachi is the cause of this?"

 

"It can't be," Elliot agrees. He turns to Mary Ann. "Jirachi is a good Pokémon."

 

"Or it's supposed to be," I say.

 

Mary Ann signs, "I can feel it, even now. It's so powerful, I can almost read its dreams. But it is at peace. I don't sense anything evil. In fact, I've never felt anything so pure."

 

Elliot believes her. I can see it in his face. He turns to the legendary Pokémon with a look of wonder. I cut in front, forcing his attention onto me.

 

"No! This thing is the cause of everything. This is the thing that brought me here against my will, trapped me in a town I hated, stole my name and my identity, replaced it with a role I never asked for, yanked me around in it and played with me like I'm just some life-sized doll, turned Chica and Maria into different Pokémon, tore out half the landscape, sucked out all the color in the world, and snuffed out three quarters of the population. It has destroyed my life. It has destroyed the world. And I am going to make it answer for that."

 

I turn to the floating form with a growl. "Wake. Up." It turns into a screech. "Wake up!"

 

The head jerks up like a puppet's when its strings are pulled. Wide black eyes open, it tumbles forward into a mid-air flip before righting itself to levitate with head up and feet towards the ground. It rises up to eye level and floats forward to meet me. Face to face. I hold my ground.

 

A female voice beside me says, "I hear you."

 

"Mary Ann?" I gasp.

 

"No, it is I, Jirachi. Mary Ann has communicated with me and allowed a telepathic link so that I may speak my words through human lips. I speak these words within her mind so that she might hear as well."

 

"So all the things I just listed weren't enough? You're possessing my friend?" I lunge forward, swiping through the air with my right hand.

 

Jirachi swoops backwards with an expression of surprise.

 

"Why do you try to hurt me? Your friend has allowed this. She invited me to speak in and through her so that you can come to understand me as she does. She has touched upon my true essence and knows it to be good and trustworthy."

 

"Lies," I spit. "No good would ever allow these things to happen. You didn't just allow them. You caused them!"

 

"To what are you referring?" Jirachi asks with a dip of its star-shaped head.

 

I laugh. "As if you don't know? Look at me!"

 

Jirachi blinks. "Yes, I see it now. You are all lacking in color. I see still with my psychic vision, but the world to your appearance must seem terribly bare. What has caused this to occur while I was taking my rest?"

 

Elliot speaks up. "I really don't think Jirachi is the one behind this. It sleeps for a thousand years. It can't have even been awake when all this happened."

 

"My thousand year sleep has been interrupted twice this cycle," Jirachi says, floating forward to its original distance from my face. "You are the singer who awakened me, and I am tied now to your voice. Why have you come to awaken me again?"

 

All that I can say is: "What?"

 

"Hold," Jirachi says, holding out a thin white hand. "Mary Ann is asking that I explain myself. She knows not the tales, and I fear that even the mythology that you have heard has been confused. Make yourselves comfortable, and I will tell you the tale."

 

"Story time!" Elliot says. He flops down on the cave floor immediately, scooching up until he's as close to the floating psychic Pokémon as possible, with his legs crossed and his hands resting on them as he leans forward.

 

Mary Ann's body lowers to the same position, but with a straightened back, bearing an expression more curious than excited.

 

I cross my arms. "Seriously? I'll stand."

 

Jirachi frowns. "As you wish."

 

The black curve on its stomach slowly peels back and begins to open, revealing a yellow eye with a bright blue center. As I gaze into it, I feel my mind being lifted from my body and transported back and away.

 

Bodiless and floating, I look out over a bright green meadow dotted with wildflowers. All around, mountain peaks rise up to create a barrier of stone and natural beauty as magnificent as any palace. The familiar white and yellow figure of Jirachi hovers over the valley.

 

"I am Jirachi." The voice that speaks these words is still Mary Ann's, but it reverberates in the same peculiar way as the voice of Sabrina. The voice now is all reverberation, spoken without a physical voice and heard without physical ears.

 

"I have lived since the beginning of this world," the voice continues, pulling us up, out of the atmosphere to a height at which we can see that the world is fresh and new, unshaped by human hands and touched with forests of no more than tiny saplings.

 

"My power is great, but it requires great energy in return. I must rest to conserve all that I can. Still, I have been present at the greatest moments in human history. It was I who gave to Pokémon many of the powers that would have otherwise been impossible to them. I gave the Chansey her ability to heal and the Absol his ability to predict disaster. It was I who taught humans and Pokémon to live on this world in peace. It was I who made possible the first pokéballs made of Apricorn. It was I who accomplished great deeds and wonders your history has forgotten and yet without which all you know would have been destroyed."

 

"All we know is being destroyed now," I argue.

 

"Hush, young one. I can see that much has changed in these short years. How different you have become from the young girl who sang to me with sweetness enough to reveal the purest heart."

 

We are transported again, this time to a familiar setting. The tiny area beneath a table with a blue tablecloth around like a curtain and a little girl in the center pressing arrow keys as she sings a wordless song that bubbles up from her heart. In the notes, I hear her fears and sorrows, hopes and dreams. Does it even hold a wish?

 

"You see," Jirachi says, "my powers can do nothing on their own. I am the wish Pokémon. I am awakened by the songs sung by the pure of heart, and what I grant is nothing more than singer's greatest and most powerful desire."


	54. Bluest Twilight, Reddest Dawn

Back inside the cave, I blink and stretch out my stiff legs. It feels like I've been standing here for an hour, frozen into the same position. I sit down on the cave floor next to Elliot. So much for my pride.

Jirachi floats down with me, maintaining its height at the level of my face.

"Are you trying to tell me that I wished for all of this?" I demand.

Jirachi looks confused. "Have you not enjoyed these past eleven years?" The third eye in its belly turns to me, looking as though it would pierce down into my core. "Ah! I must not have been fully awake. Please forgive me for my slowness. I see all now."

"Really?" Elliot breathes.

I feel an impulse to give him a shove, but I resist. There's not actually anything wrong with showing childlike innocence, misplaced as it may be.

"Accept my most sincere apologies," Jirachi continues. The bits of yellow that stream out from behind its back droop as though laden down with sorrow. "Neither you nor I had ever intended much of what seems to have transpired. I could not have forseen the difficulty."

Jirachi twirls in a circle, not quickly and joyfully, but slowly and somehow thoughtfully, as though this is the action that it uses to focus itself.

"But you are confused," it says. "Here, allow me to show you."

Back to the little table where this all started, but earlier this time. The character on the video game screen is wandering the early part of Victory Road. As we listen, the song begins.

"You hated being in that foster home," Jirachi says. "You played the video game as a form of escape, a longing for another world, a world you fell in love with day by day. As you sang your wish into that world, the words of your thoughts told me that you longed to be reunited with your mother, and I felt within you the deeper wound of her abandonment. With all of my power, I cannot mend such tragedy. I could not force her to love you, but, though you did not know it, this was never your true wish."

"Are you serious?" I ask. "Why wouldn't I want that?"

"Because you knew it to be impossible. Tragic as it is, the tragedy that you felt was not the lack of a mother's love, but the lack of love itself. The love of family, the love of friends, deep and sustaining. As a video game character, you were given a friend to share your journey. You imagined him as real as the ground beneath your feet. You named him, loved him, nurtured him and helped him to grow. This friend helped you to gain more friends. You journeyed on and on, day after day as you sought your precious escape. They were as much like family as anything that you had ever known, and the deepest desire of your heart was that you could cease to be the little girl lost and abandoned in the foster home and fully become the character you imagined yourself as, never to turn back."

"That's why you have the same clothes," Elliot's disembodied voice says. "That's why you're the hero!"

"Your world does not recognize the reality of ours, thinking it mere fantasy and child's play, but you believed. You believed, and you were quite correct. The video games, television show, and manga of your world are inspired by brief glimpses of ours as the boundaries between meet and glance off of one another. Even the creators of these do not know that they have their basis in another reality, but before the so-called second generation had been created, I, a third generation Pokémon, was present. Your belief opened a tinted window into our world through which I could be seen, and your song drew you towards me. I awakened."

I see again the yellow glow on screen. The image pauses as my young face leans forward.

"Ok, now, if all of that is really how it happened," I say skeptically. "Then why didn't my wish come true right then?"

"Because I was interrupted."

The scene before us moves forward. A door slams. My younger self gasps.

"Derrick," I say.

My younger self is no longer paying attention to the screen. Her eyes dart, thinking, trying to come up with a place to hide the game. On screen, the yellow glow solidifies into a tiny picture of Jirachi, who sits up with eyes blinking. And then the menu appears. Without looking, my younger self arrows down to "Save" and hits "A" twice. When she glances down, over half the screen is covered with white and black text, hiding Jirachi from view. The game has finished saving. She flicks the power button.

"So, you had already started to grant the wish?"

Jirachi nods. "I was deep in concentration, and I had no way of knowing what had occurred."

"But years passed," I protest.

"Many years may pass within your world, but, when you reconnect to ours, you enter once again into the time at which you left it. It perfectly mimics your expectations as to how a video game should operate. When the game was turned back on, I was too deeply entrenched to reverse course and too focused on my execution to realize the heart I sensed was not the same."

The scene changes in a flash: my last foster home on the night before I arrived in the Pokémon world.

"Jodi," I say, seeing her seated on the floor with my Game Boy in her hands.

She starts the game, loads up the file, and Jirachi appears on screen once more. It closes its eyes, spreads its arms out wide and floats up and out of the screen completely, tiny still but three-dimensional and real. Jodi's eyes are large as watermelons. She drops the game. There is a flash of yellow light, and the figure that was sleeping in the bed just beyond is gone. Me. That is when I disappeared.

Eyes still closed, Jirachi smiles. It floats back down into the screen and returns to its resting place. Never opening its eyes, it lies down and settles into a peaceful slumber.

"The wish had been mis-set," Jirachi says. "It opened a passage between your world and ours through which any person who desired greatly enough would be permitted entrance."

"That's how I got here!" Elliot's voice says excitedly.

"Well, no surprises there," I say. "You're only about the biggest fan boy I have ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replies proudly.

"Mary Ann, you ask me how it came to be that you were brought into a world that you knew nothing of," Jirachi says as if in reply to a voice inside its head. "You had gone through great tragedy. The loss of your parents."

The scene changes, and I see Mary Ann standing inside a church, crying. Everyone around is dressed in black.

"You felt that you did not belong with your aunt and uncle."

Two faces flash by and are just as quickly gone.

"And one night you felt, deep down, that you did not really belong in your world at all. And you were quite correct. Your psychic powers can only find their expression here." A pause, as if listening. "And you point out quite correctly that they, along with the connection you have formed with Goran, truly make you feel complete."

"And Dr. Clark?" Elliot asks.

"The zoologist always longed for a great variety of new and interesting creatures to study, such as he could never find within your world. And our world is in great need of good zoologists at this period in our history. There is much to be discovered, and he will be the one to unlock the mysteries."

"Ok, I hate to point this out, but none of that sounds bad," I say.

"More people received what they desired." Jirachi nods. "However, the wish was never meant to support so much weight or to bear so much power. Without myself to guide it, since I slept, the psychic power drained from the world around. The mix of Jodi's thoughts as the wish was granted, which were only to play the video game that she expected, added a taint which the altered wish fed on. Not knowing what else to do, it sought to recreate that game even while carrying out the original portion of your wish. Thus you were protected from the changes that affected all else. These matters are much more complicated than what I have described. I speak of the wish as though it had a consciousness and will of its own, though in reality it did not. Mary Ann achieves better understanding with her knowledge of the psychic ways, but only a legendary could understand fully. I hope I have not confused you in my attempt to bring it to your level."

We're thrown back into our bodies once more. Jirachi still floats before me in the cave.

"Well, it doesn't make a lot of sense," Elliot says, "but it also kind of does."

"What kind of a sentence is that?" I ask Elliot.

"A truthful one?" He shrugs.

Turning back to Jirachi, I say, "Ok, fine. I made a wish without realizing it, Derrick interrupted, and everything went haywire because it didn't happen the way it was supposed to and you were sound asleep. I don't need any more details than that. What I need to know is if you can fix it. Because if you can't, so help me I will..."

Jirachi floats backwards an inch. "I am once again shocked by your implied threat of violence. It is wholly unnecessary. I will of course correct any damage that has been done."

"You'll bring back all the color?"

"Yes." Jirachi closes its eyes. All is silent for a period of about fifteen seconds. And then color blinks back into existence.

I look down and see that, instead of being a grayish creature with a bulb growing on her back, Chica is now a greenish creature with a bulb growing on her back.

"And you'll return all the Pokémon to their advanced generation bodies?"

Jirachi closes its eyes again. When they open, a yellow glow envelops Chica and Maria, turning them back into themselves.

"And all the people who disappeared!" Elliot cuts in.

"That is the first thing that I set out to do upon realizing my mistake," Jirachi assures him. "My psychic powers have been working to achieve it all the while we've been speaking."

"What about their memories?" I ask.

"All of their memories have been restored," Jirachi says. "The best that I can accomplish is to allow them to see what has happened to them so that they have full knowledge of all that has occurred and of how their minds were previously manipulated. They will now be aware of everything you have done." Jirachi looks at me with all three eyes. "They will most likely credit you with having saved the entire world. I am sorry."

"That's... ok," I sigh. "As long as it really is saved."

I'm probably going to regret saying that.

"The land itself will take a longer time to heal," Jirachi says. "But I promise that I will not rest until the task is completed."

"Awesome!" Elliot says. "So, is that it then? Mission accomplished?"

Jirachi's eyes look down at the ground. The third eye closes. "Not quite. You must understand, none of these solutions will be permanent unless the problem is corrected. The doorway between the worlds must be closed off, or the instability will only return."

"So, what does that mean?"

Jirachi looks at the three of us: Elliot, Mary Ann, myself. "Once the doorway has been closed, there is no turning back. No one will enter from the other side, and no one from this side will be able to travel into that. If you wish to return to the world from which you came, you must make your decision now. I will leave Mary Ann while all of you confer."

Jirachi floats off to a corner of the cave as if trying to give us some privacy.

I turn to the left. Elliot stands and moves next to Mary Ann so that we form a triangle.

"Sorry, what exactly do we have to confer about?" I ask.

"You mean you're staying?" Elliot asks.

"Why wouldn't I be staying? You think I'm just going to leave Chica?"

"Ka!" Chica punctuates, standing beside me proudly.

"Besides, what do I have to go back to?"

"What about you, Mary Ann?" Elliot asks.

Mary Ann looks thoughtful for a second. She begins to sign, and Elliot translates. "Jirachi was right. I do belong in this world. You don't know what the psychic connection is like, but I can't lose it. It's everything to me."

Elliot's not smiling. Why isn't he smiling? I suck in a breath.

"Elliot?" I ask. "Why are you asking like that?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I just... I don't know."

"You don't know why you're asking?" I prompt.

"No, I... I don't know if I can stay."

Mary Ann's sign and my reply come in the same instant: "What?"

He brings his hands together in his lap and wrings them in a way I've never seen him do before. "It's my family. They're all in the other world. I've only been here for, what is it, a bunch of weeks? And, Mary Ann, you know that I miss them already. If the door closes and I have to be here, without them, forever... "

"Glay?" Maria asks, looking up at her trainer.

I get a cold feeling in my stomach. I hold a hand up to my head, trying to steady myself. "What are you saying?"

Elliot swallows, and his eyes start to tear up. "I love them."

"And you don't love us?"

Elliot reels back as though I slapped him. Tears fall freely from his eyes, and I realize that I've never seen him cry before. It hurts me.

"I'm sorry," I say, forcing my hands to uncurl from the fists they've curled themselves into. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean it like..."

I start to get up and pause. Should I stand up? Go closer to him? Stay here? My arm wobbles, stuck supporting half my body weight in an awkward position.

Maria is lying on the ground, not moving, like she's gone into shock.

Mary Ann give out a sob. She's crying, crying hard, and that one hits me like a punch. I am an idiot. I am such an idiot.

Elliot's tears stop. "Mary Ann? Mary Ann, are you ok?"

She doesn't answer.

He turns to me, speaking quickly. "I know you didn't mean it like that. I know. It's just a stupid thing. Words aren't right. It's... it's like you're part of my family, too. It feels like that, I mean. And... And that's why I'm stuck. It's... Mary Ann? Mary Ann, come on, please talk to me."

He touches her shoulder, and she immediately pulls away. He looks stunned.

Her face snaps up and she signs to him in a flurry. Her face is filled with anger.

"You want me to leave?" Elliot's tears start up again. "You don't care about me at all?"

"Mary Ann." I briefly touch her hand to make her look at me. "Mary Ann, are you sure about this? Are you...?"

Her lip curls, and she signs angrily.

"She says, 'Stay out of this,'" Elliot translates.

She turns her face away.

I feel like the entire world is crumbling. Elliot leaving? And Mary Ann...?

"Chika," Chica says with concern.

I reach over and hug her to me tight. She feels solid. She's here. Chica will be here with me always. Not everyone will abandon me, I tell myself.

Elliot asks, in a voice a little husky, "Do you feel that way?"

"I don't want you to leave!" I sob, burying my face in Chica's leaf until all I can see is green and all I can smell is the sweet scent of lilies. Lilies. I've never known her to produce that smell before.

I never realized until this very moment just how much I wanted to have a family. Not until this moment when the little one I've made is breaking apart.

"Come with me," Elliot says. "I'll make my parents adopt you."

Insane as it is to laugh when you feel sad, I laugh anyway. "It doesn't work like that, Elliot. I'm nineteen. I'm a legal adult now."

"I don't care," Elliot says. "We'll do it anyway."

Chica in my arms. My first friend, my closest. I remember her devastation when I left her behind, the ache I felt not having her with me. When I captured her, I made a promise, and she made one in return. We promised to be a team, to be with each other forever, through thick and thin. If that's not family, I don't know what is. She would never leave me, and I know in my heart that I could never leave her or any of the others.

"I can't." I don't even look up from Chica's leaf.

Elliot's voice chokes, like he wants to say my name but can't.

"I can't," I repeat.

"Mary Ann," Elliot says one last time. He cuts off, but I don't know if she signed something that interrupted him or if he just doesn't know what else to say.

"Maria?" he tries. "Maria, please just look at me. I don't want to leave you or any of the others. I just... You're really worrying me right now."

I glance up. Still lying on the ground, she puts her paws over her eyes.

Jirachi reappears in front of us, not as though it teleported but as if it had been slowly floating over all this time and all of us had been too preoccupied to notice it. I look up again when I hear it speaking in Mary Ann's voice once more.

"With her permission," it says. "I speak once more to say that, if any of you wish to return to your own world, the time must be now."

"Can I say good bye?" Elliot looks at the floating creature with a tear-stained face.

As it nods, I see a tear escaping from its eye as well. "When you are ready, come to the far wall. I will open the doorway and close it behind you. If you hear me cry out my name, it means that you must come now."

It floats away again. Slowly, slowly. As soon as it leaves, Mary Ann turns to face the wall. Goran takes a step closer, standing over her protectively, clearly at her request. Elliot winces with fresh pain.

"Please," he says to me. "Please, when she's willing to talk with you again, will you tell her that I'm sorry? And that I'm going to miss her?"

I nod.

"And the Pokémon. Them, too?"

I nod again.

Elliot wrings his hands again and stands, returning Maria to her pokéball as he does. I rise with him.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this," he says. "This isn't what I wanted at all, but, it's like there are no good options. My family... They must be worried sick. They don't know what happened to me."

"I understand," I say, even though I don't. What do I know about families? About real ones?

"I'm going to miss you, too. I'll never forget you."

I pause, struggling with the temptation to pen in all my feelings, to turn my face to stone and pretend like I don't care, like none of this hurts me at all. I think part of me thinks that pretending it will almost make it true. Burying my feelings deep, deep down all over again where I think they're gone but where I'm really only making them boil and fester beneath the surface.

"I'll never forget you either. You're the first human friend I've ever had." I break down again.

"Jirachi!" The call comes in a high-pitched voice that surprises me after hearing it speak so many times through Mary Ann.

On the far wall, a yellow circle is slowly opening, growing larger and larger. On the other side, I see a concrete sidewalk, a city street, a blue sedan zipping past a white mailbox with a little red flag.

"I have to go. I have to go before it closes." Elliot reaches down and takes all the pokéballs from his belt, tossing them into his bag. He pulls it closed and holds it out to me like a parent offering his first born child. "Take care of my Pokémon."

I take the bag.

"Jirachi!"

The portal is fully open, edges quivering, like it's trying to hold on to its shape. Jirachi's eyes are closed tight, face scrunched with effort.

"I have to go." Elliot turns and starts running for the portal. The last words he shouts before he jumps through are: "I'm sorry."

The portal closes to a yellow dot and blinks out.

***

**A Letter from Jirachi**

 

I am unable to speak with you now as I have before. You and Mary Ann both are dealing with the loss of your friend, and I am certain at this moment that your dearest wish is to leave and never speak with me again. Fortunately, this is not the type of wish that I would grant. Therefore, I leave this in your keeping so that, on the day that you are ready, you may find it.

I have much to say to Mary Ann as well, and I have written a separate letter to her. You may share with her if you would like, but this letter is for you, young one.

You do not believe this now, but I know that everything will work its way for your happiness in the end. I know not how this will be accomplished, but you must have faith. You are strong and brave and true, and I know you have it within you to move mountains. The wish I granted for you gave you the appearance of a hero and the opportunity, but you yourself are the one who filled that role in a way that I never could have imagined. I have not been controlling your destiny. You have been creating it.

You tell me that I have stolen your name. I admit that it is on my account that it has been lost, but it seems when the memory of that name was lost to you, so was the memory of how great was your hatred for it. It was the name your mother gave you and the name with which all of your enemies mocked you. It never brought you anything but pain. Your wish was to leave your name behind along with all ties to the life that you once knew. Your wish was to start fresh.

In the video game you loved so much, you know the first question that is asked of you: "what is your name?" Don't you see? You were never meant to live without an identity. You were meant to create your own.


End file.
